


Wind Over Tide

by bizzylizzy



Series: Wind Over Tide Universe [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, teenaged drama, violent friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:33:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 93,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzylizzy/pseuds/bizzylizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Kakashi at his back, Itachi expects his ANBU initiation mission to go smoothly. With his own doubts, an informant who tries to kill him repeatedly, and a mercurial Tsuyu Shisui in the mix, Itachi might have fallen in rougher waters then he can swim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quick Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> Posted in full on FF.net under the same name.

_So tie me to a post and block my ears  
I can see widows and orphans through my tears_  
 _I know my call despite my faults_  
 _And despite my growing fears_ \--The Cave

 

“The contact is a missing-nin?” Itachi hated getting his debriefing on the move. Perhaps the whole point was to teach him to take in information while travelling, but he would rather have sat down and talked in private, even if their guide was deaf and mute. The swaying motion of the boat was making him slightly sick. At twelve, he was still awkwardly trying to make his way prematurely from child to adult, which made him overly conscious of what he said, did, and showed those around him. Kakashi was in ANBU, and Itachi suspected, though no one has said as much, this was his initiation trial. That made how he presented himself and his performance especially important, something his father had been careful to tell him after Itachi had officially submitted his request to join ANBU.  
  
There could be no other reason the man had roused Itachi from his bed at midnight a week ago, telling him only it was time to go and giving him no time to ask questions. Itachi had had everything ready since he’d turned in his application and left his room perfectly ready for anything that would be thrown at him. What he hadn’t expected was to be taken to the border, placed in a boat, and begin island hopping. He’d thought the evaluation would be something shorter than an undercover mission, something less complex and _long,_ where he’d have fewer chances to screw up. He’d left his parents a note, but a week was the longest Itachi had been gone from home, and the mission hadn’t even started.

On top of that, things were tense back home, and he worried something would happen while he was gone. He knew a twelve year-old worrying about politics seemed ridiculous, but he was heir. Also, the older he got, the less he agreed with the things his elders did or their ideology, and the less he felt he could trust them to properly direct the clan. True, they didn’t often listen to him when he _did_ voice opposition, but maybe he could mediate a bit between his newly fermenting ideals and theirs. Itachi focused his mind and pushed aside the worry for what he could not help. He instead focused on Kakashi, who looked as inscrutable as he had for this entire trip. His demeanor wasn’t unfriendly, but the blithe expression hid more than any Itachi had run into except his father’s.  
  
“Well, technically he isn’t associated with a village, but neither has he betrayed one. His mother, on the other hand, did.” Kakashi looked completely at ease in the rocking boat, slumped and casual. He could probably fight on this thing. Itachi got the feeling he would fall on his face if he tried. While he could swim and walk on water, being in the middle of so much water made him nervous. He didn’t know if he could walk on the green tinted waves that rocked them about.  
  
“He’s a completely unknown quantity, with no official records to rely on,” Itachi surmised, hoping to prompt more information, because he didn’t want to _ask_ Kakashi and seem naïve or childish.   
  
“Rumor says he’s an Uchiha---or half of one,” Kakashi shrugged and leaned with the sudden surge of the boat. Itachi gripped the side of the seat with white knuckles. After getting dumped over backwards once before he’d rather have sore hands than fall. Kakashi couldn’t see Itachi’s hands anyway. They were under his cloak, which hid many short comings and provided protection from the winter sea wind.  
  
“If every rumored Uchiha were one, then the world would be filled with them,” Itachi pointed out softly, mostly to keep from opening his mouth for more annunciation and volume. He was beginning to feel a little green. Kakashi’s eye smile suggested that he knew something Itachi didn’t, or Itachi was actually turning green and this amused the man. Itachi wondered if he could ‘accidently’ kick Kakashi in the knee cap. He did not like feeling patronized. No one _ever_ patronized him in the clan—not since he’d been seven and had stopped referring to himself in third person.  
  
“These rumors are very . . . trustworthy. That’s why I asked for you to come with me.” Kakashi waved his hand. Itachi didn’t know if that was true, or just something thrown out to confuse him further about what he was doing out here. Perhaps they wished him to act as if this was any other mission while the ANBU evaluated  him. Or maybe Kakashi told the truth.

Kakashi didn’t notice Itachi’s racing thoughts. “And of course to try to convince your errant relative to come back to Konoha. The Hokage did give us permission to offer him clemency for any wrongs during our negotiations.”  
  
“First you tell me that he’s done nothing wrong, and then you tell me that we’re offering him clemency? Do you have any idea what we’re getting into, Kakashi-san?” Itachi asked with an annoyed drag in his tone. He didn’t like surprises.  
  
Kakashi just smiled. Itachi didn’t much like Kakashi either.  
\---  
As Kakashi paid the ferryman, deaf and mute but very clever when it came to currents, Itachi pulled his hood higher and started across the rocky shore. Black rocks and sand covered the island, the only vegetation harsh and scrubby as it struggled up from the black ground. For one used to Konoha’s giant trees and green, it looked like a place barely alive. It didn’t surprise him now that Kakashi had said the little town was dying. How could this island support anything?

Itachi’s ninja gear and anything that would identify him as Konoha had been stowed in his pack. He was dressed as a civilian in loose baggy pants after the Mist style, sandals when the weather should call for boots, and a heavy turtleneck under his waterproof cloak. The black rocks of the shore were slick and sharp, dipping and rising in odd hills and falls. All in all, this little island looked dangerous and barren.  
  
A perfect place for a missing-nin to hide out.  
  
“We’ll canvas the town and settle ourselves and our story. Tomorrow we’ll meet with the contact,” Kakashi suggested. His white hair was dyed black, hidden mostly under a cap. It was harder to hide the signature scar and red eye, but an eye patch worked. Kakashi assured Itachi that no one would comment on the eye patch. Kakashi pulled up his scarf, practically fretting to keep his lower face covered.  Itachi was perfectly comfortable playing the teenager with his hair braided completely back from his face to disguise it a little. It was unlikely that anyone here would recognize the Uchiha heir. As long as he kept his Sharingan covered, he’d be fine.  
  
The little town was perched higher up on the rocky island, closer to the protected little cove the fishermen worked in and merchants sometimes stopped in for water or, even more rarely, to trade. As they wound their way up to it, Itachi wandered from large rock to large rock, rocking a little unsteadily on the elevated sandals. They were supposed to keep him out of the mud. They felt like they might dump him down the steep path and back into the sea at a moment’s notice.  
  
Itachi stopped and turned his head a fraction. He thought...he could almost feel...something about the cold air suddenly changed, and he became _certain_ someone was watching him. Where they watched from he didn’t know, but something was out there, watching with enough _intent_ Itachi could feel it crawling all over his skin.  
  
“Inari! Hurry up!” Kakashi called. Itachi looked back and realized Kakashi was yards away.  
  
“Coming Kaika!” Itachi called back. He dropped back onto the path and jogged up to where Kakashi waited. It pleased Itachi he didn’t trip on the loose gravel of the path. Kakashi glanced down at Itachi as he drew even with him.  
  
“Having fun?”  
  
“I felt something watching me,” Itachi replied, resisting the urge to look back up at the towering rocks.  
  
Kakashi simply smiled winsomely and started walking again in his long, swinging stride. “This is Mist. Something is always watching you.”  
\--  
The town was smaller than Itachi had expected. Itachi realized as worn and rough as he’d thought his clothes were, he and Kakashi’s stood out in quality. Above the little town, on the black cliff stood the small time Lord’s manor--fortress, built with black stone instead of in the more traditional bamboo and rice paper of the other buildings. It also looked to be in better repair than some places. The streets were rough and dirty, garbage littering alleyways and less used streets. Itachi expected the closer one got to the manor, the better maintained the town would be, but around the town square things were clean enough, but very worn and ramshackled .  
  
Kakashi left Itachi to get what he called, ‘a feel’ for the town while Kakashi secured lodgings for them. Their cover was surveying a mining prospect on the other side of the island for a very rich man with money to blow. There had been nothing mined here for years, but Kakashi assured Itachi that no one would question a rich man’s idiocy. Itachi assumed their contact was on that side of the island, giving them a perfect excuse to be gone for hours at a time to conference with him.

Itachi wandered about the village, noting what he saw, especially the people. There were not many children his age or younger about, but plenty of older people bustled around doing business, mostly women. Five times someone offered him ‘the best charms in the village.’ Itachi politely turned them down, and was assured he would come to harm if he didn’t have a charm. These were wild shores, filled with creatures that would love to dine on his soul and flesh.

Itachi did purchase a hot meat bun filled with fish and vegetables to eat and sat in an out of the way corner of the square. He wondered what kind of vegetable these people had to put in the bun, and then decided he shouldn’t ask. It was noon, and most of the people here seemed to be eating or resting now. Some did work, hawking fish or other goods. Mostly fish. Everything here smelled of fish and brine or seaweed.  
  
“Heyla, get that from Old Lady Badger? Better watch for bones!”  
  
Itachi jumped, his hand going for a dagger before he stilled the motion. He berated himself for not noticing this one sneaking up on him, and glanced at the man before actually looking at him. Young, late teens, wild bush of curly dark hair with twigs and leaves knotted in it. He wore a patch work cloak over his grey and blue clothes, a heavy knife at his side, but no other obvious weapons on him. His face was weathered and tanned, nose slightly flat, ears set just a little crooked, and hands shaped with callouses and scars. In a fishing town, such scars were not uncommon, as Kakashi’s comment about the eye patch had suggested. Gutting fish, baiting hooks, and working nets could be dangerous.  
  
“I bought it from the woman with the cat,” Itachi offered hesitantly. Most of the other people he’d met had been politely dismissive of him unless they were trying to sell him something.  
  
The man-boy laughed. “Wow, but you talk funny! I knew you were new!” Itachi was slightly offended. He’d worked on his accent for a month and had been told it was perfect. Then again, this young man sounded like nothing Itachi had ever heard or would ever care to imitate. He more spewed the language than spoke it, tossing things out every which way. He flopped down beside Itachi, as if someone had suddenly pulled his bones from his body. That crooked grin was flashed at Itachi. “That’s Old Badger Lady. You should watch what you eat if you get it from her.”  
  
The man-boy’s finger’s flashed, brushing Itachi’s lips. He held a delicately carved fishbone between his fingers. “See?”  
  
“Nice trick,” Itachi murmured, jumping a little as the man-boy’s fingers flashed against and he tucked the bone into Itachi’s breast pocket.  
  
“To remember me by,” he explained.  
  
“Why would I want to remember you?” Itachi pressed, shifting himself away from the other. He smelled strongly of brine and seaweed and fish and sweat. Despite being inundated with them in the past few days, those were not Itachi’s favorite smells.  
  
“Everyone remembers me. I’m the most interesting person here, don’t you know it?” Another roguish smile, bright flash of the eyes as the man-boy leaned closer. It was so odd to have someone meet his eyes so fearlessly. Itachi had been taught at the Academy that meeting someone’s eyes could assure them that you weren’t lying, but Uchiha had a different set of rules for eye-to-eye contact. Mainly it didn’t happen unless someone was challenging you, or among other Sharingan users--though that didn’t happen often either. Itachi was used to keeping his eyes down, not looking anyone in the eye for any reason. People didn’t meet his eyes out of fear, even his elders avoided his gaze now. He thought it a little silly. He could put a genjutsu on someone with much less than a glance.  
  
“I’m afraid I just got here, so I wouldn’t know,” Itachi took a very small bite of the bun. “But you seem as forgettable as everything else.”  
  
“Oooh, ouch,” The dramatized wince preceded a laugh as Itachi’s companion inched closer again. “Now that’s just cruel. You didn’t even let me get into the good stuff.”  
  
“You do a dishonor to your home by assuming it’s forgettable.” Itachi raised an eyebrow, which was copied perfectly on the face across from him. The eye contact was beginning to unnerve Itachi. Eyes were fascinating. The color patterns in the other’s brown eyes were complex and varied, each eye different. Light brown arrayed out from the center, shading into darker strokes. There was even green mixed into it. If people could be so distracted by normal eyes, it was no wonder the Sharingan had such a devastating effect.  
  
“Oh, so I’m not forgettable, ah?” Another tipped smile, an almost fanged little grin. Very unique.  
  
“You have the makings of a bird nest in your hair. That alone makes you stand out from the usual crowd of forgettable things,” Itachi offered as he scanned the square. More people gathered there now, business seemed to be picking up, but the people about were still mostly women. Itachi supposed that the men, the fishermen, worked the mornings and evenings, maybe even all night, and now they were resting. Or they had been taken by the sea.  
  
Itachi earned a laugh. The man-boy ran his hands through his hair, releasing a shower of dirt, black sand, sticks, leaves, and even a bit of string onto Itachi’s shoulder.  Itachi snapped the other a glare and brushed his shoulder off, pointedly moving to the end of the bench. Another laugh, and his companion slid down to sit right beside him again, close enough their shoulder’s jostled each other. Wrapped in his cloak as he was, the proximity made Itachi a little too hot. His new and wholly unasked for friend _radiated_ heat like a furnace.  
  
“Come on now, don’t be like that.” A hand brushed Itachi’s. “What’re you here for? Visiting relatives? Exciting career opportunities?”  
  
“The last,” Itachi confirmed. “My partner and I are surveying a mining prospect.”  
  
“Your partner, eh?” The other’s eyebrows went up. Itachi nodded, eliciting another smile. “I guess I should have known, given your charming personality.”  
  
“Known what?” Itachi asked, slightly annoyed. That crooked smile widened, the crooked canines flashing white against chapped lips.  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
Itachi blinked, shifting away again with annoyance. “You should give yours before you ask for someone else’s name.”  
  
“You’re a stickler for protocol, aren’t you?” Instead of being affronted, he seemed amused. Horribly amused with something like a glint in his eyes that could very likely lead to trouble. He stood up, and then fell into a low bow, stretching his hands out on the ground. Itachi pulled his feet up and looked at the other like he’d grown another head.  Other people in the square paused to look, but all passed by fairly quickly, some shaking their heads or smiling at Itachi’s discomfort.  
  
“Please forgive me for my offense.” The chant like cadence of the words made the formality seem even more ridiculous. “The name of this worthless one is Shisui.” Now Shisui looked up, bright brown eyes laughing. “Tsuyu Shisui, at your service.”  
  
Itachi stared at the man kneeling at his feet, that tousle of curls, tilt of the head, and even more crooked smile turned up at him now. “I-nari. At your service.” Itachi inclined his head and glanced back to the square, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  Itachi breathed out with relief as he saw Kakashi coming. He stood and carefully stepped around Shisui.  
  
“My partners back. I have to go,” Spoken like an apology, certain dismissal. Shisui stood.  
  
“Yeah, yeah...that him?” Shisui flicked his long fingers at Kakashi. Itachi nodded, and Shisui’s smile turned scornful. He touched Itachi’s shoulder and leaned forward, flicker-fast to whisper: “You could do better.”  
  
Then he was gone.  
\--  
The rain started the day after they arrived, carried on the very winds that had pushed them so speedily to the island. From what Itachi understood, the storm would blow itself out in a few days. Now all the villagers were cooped into the village and the path to the manor treacherous, Kakashi and Itachi’s mission was on hold--or that was how Kakashi had acted the first few days of rain. Personally, Itachi saw their missions as something larger than was written explicitly on the paper they’d been given.  
  
They had been ordered to remove the current overlord of the small island, creating a space for a neighboring lord to take over. While the island itself wasn’t a strategic spot or wealthy anymore, it served as a launching platform to another island and would consolidate the small time Daimyo’s power over this area. The problem was, the vulnerable harbor was impossible to get into with anything larger than a medium sized vessel, and risky even with that if you didn’t know the water. The calmer waters on the other side of the island allowed for a better landing, but that would mean the invading army would be seen coming and have to fight a heavily fortified manor after climbing a small mountain to get there.

If the current lord and his officials were dead when the new one arrived, who would fight?  
  
They'd also been asked to make a general estimate of the town's feelings towards their current leader. Itachi thought properly gauging the situation would take a month, Kakashi a week. Itachi felt that, with enough intelligence and some rumor planting, they could make the take-over practically bloodless, except for the lord and his officials. Kakashi had given him the empty look of a war-raised child that seemed to say war was inevitable. Death would happen. Why go through so much trouble to stop something they couldn't stop?

Itachi wondered if he had transgressed somehow by showing weakness. Was it truly a weakness to be averse to killing? He would fight when he was told, and he saw why he must do that, but should he embrace the wanton killing of civilians? He burned to ask the question, but shut his mouth and listened to Kakashi tell Itachi what he had learned about the town. The meeting with the informant was delayed, and Kakashi would set up another meeting for when the rain ended.  
  
The second rainy night, Itachi left the inn he and Kakashi were staying at and headed for another. He was soaked and cold by the time he got there, despite the fact that his cloak was waterproof. The common room of the pub he entered was smoky and warm--not as clean as the one he'd left, but not so dirty as to bother him. He’d be washed clean by the rain on his way back anyway. It also meant he’d probably reach a different crowd and class here. Itachi slid off his wet cloak, handling it carefully though he didn't think he could get any wetter.  
  
Itachi found a seat at a small table in a corner near the fireplace. It was warm, smelled terribly smoky, but let Itachi see most of the room. Even in disguise, it was hard to give up the instinct to put his back against a wall. After he’d let Shisui sneak up on him, Itachi wanted to be certain it didn’t happen again if his attention wandered. He also didn’t feel brave enough to walk up and join an occupied table his first time out. He’d drink and listen for now. Next time, perhaps, He’d join a table and talk.

It was hard to get the waitress to notice him, but she smiled when she spoke to him, and Itachi felt it was genuine. She quickly brought him a small tea pot with its own happy bundle of hot coals to keep it warm _and_ warm Itachi’s chilled finger tips. The tea cup was a plain clay one, well washed and inscribed with the little pub's name and symbol—a flying fish fancifully curved and dyed purple with the dye the island made from shells.  
  
Itachi settled back to listen. Most of the talk seemed to be of the fishing luck, the weather predicting powers of old bones, who had slept with whom lately, and the newest prostitutes for sale. Utterly enlightening. A high-class whore made more in this town in a week than Itachi would on a mission. Fascinating. Perhaps he should have gone into Eros after all. Or maybe it wasn’t too late to sell himself on the black market and avoid the moral dilemma of whom to kill and whom not to when something screamed not to kill at all. In the heat of battle he forgot his scruples with killing, but afterwards he often felt weak and sick. He’d been assured that was normal and it would pass. It only seemed to grow stronger with each kill.  
  
Itachi had been there about an hour when Shisui swept in with a renewed thundering of rain, much of which blew in the door with him. One of the waitresses had been convinced by a smile, a glance, and a hand on her wrist, to pay attention to Itachi. He had new coals and a light meal of fish, rice, and some tough tuber looking vegetables. No one had yet to pay him any mind, but as Shisui's eyes swept the establishment, his eyes stuttered to a stop on Itachi. He changed his obvious intent of joining a card game then. Shisui grabbed a waitress and made much of teasing her before she gave him a drink from her tray intended for someone at the card table. Shisui made his rounds, stopping to chat with more than half the people in the place before he finally 'seemed' to notice Itachi was there. He didn't fool Itachi.

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to.  
  
"Well, well, Inari. Fancy that." He didn't wait to be invited, just slid into the seat next to Itachi, somehow making it come much closer than it had been before. "I thought you were staying at the Dolphin's Spout?" Shisui's patchwork cloak was soaked. Itachi edged away to avoid being dripped on. He was mostly dry and warm now.  
  
"I am," Itachi conceded, wondering why Shisui knew or cared.  
  
"Too classy for you?"  
  
"I wanted a change of scenery," Itachi explained. "I thought I might get a different perspective here."  
  
"A different perspective?" Shisui glanced about the room and slumped. "What for? Or is that rude to ask?" Shisui brought some mocking fingers to his face.  
  
"I am trying to eat," Itachi gave Shisui a pointed look, who shrugged.  
  
"So I should sit and stare while you eat? That's more polite?" Shisui propped an elbow on the table and gave Itachi a look as he cradled his chin in his hand. "Huh. These manner things are _fascinating_."  
  
"No. What would be polite is for you to talk about yourself, or the town, or the weather until I get done eating, and then you may ask me questions." Also, it would be an excellent way to learn things. Shisui seemed the sort who could talk for hours on end. All he needed was a little push, and Itachi might be able to glean something useful from the prattle.  
  
“Weeelll, talking about me’s a little personal for a second date, so I’ll bore your ear with talk of the town. You see, this little town mainly sustains itself with fishing, a little mining, and little bit of dyeing from time to time as the sea cooperates, but mostly fish. We trade lots and lots of fish. And prostitutes. Slave trading used to happen a lot. Sometimes sailors come in on the big merchant ships to get water or sometimes dye or shells, wherein all the whores came from. Fishermen don’t make such good payers, so bad business in between the sheet lately, but...what else is a whore to do?” Shisui shrugged, sliding further down into his chair. “Pretty boring, actual.”  
  
“You seem so disparaging of the normal.”  
  
“Are you talking or are you not?” Shisui asked, cocking his head and propping the other elbow on the table. His hands were long, thin, and spiderish as he moved them, which he did as he talked.  “What’s great about normal? Normal is boring, normal is bland. Normal. . .” Shisui gave Itachi a pointed look. “Is forgettable.”  
  
“I’m glad you somehow managed to remember _me_ , then,” Itachi picked out another small bite, intending to make his meal last as long as he could. “I find nothing distasteful about a calm, normal life.”  
  
“You’ve never lived one, have you?” Shisui leaned back in his chair, which creaked.  “You’ve never tried to hawk fish or wait tables, or even fish, have you?” Shisui’s upper lip rose, like he’d smelled something bad. “What are you? A scholar? With your big words and accent. Where are you from, anyway? Grass, must be. I’ve seen your type before. You have this idealized view of how ‘common’ people live. So rustic and picturesque, but you’ve never lived it. That’s why you see nothing wrong with it.”  
  
Itachi couldn’t decide if Shisui was simply trying to get a rise out of him, or if he meant his words. Either way, the rant was revealing. “Are you so desperate to be remembered?”  
  
Shisui stopped at stared. For a moment, Itachi thought he saw something real. Something raw and painful under that smile he hadn’t actually meant to dig out. He didn’t need Shisui to be real. He just needed information. Then Shisui tossed his head back and laughed, loud enough to make people stare at them both. The noise grated on Itachi’s nerves--too loud and rough, like waves crashing into a tunnel.  
  
Shisui finally quieted. He shoved Itachi’s plate away. “You’re done eating. Now you talk.”  
  
Itachi gave Shisui a long enough stare for the other to look a bit uncomfortable before he laid his fork down. “What am I supposed to talk about? The weather? I think it’s rather fascinating you expect it to rain all week.”  
  
“People talk about the weather when they have nothing more interesting to say. You can do better than that,” Shisui goaded.  
  
Itachi decided that he really had stung some part of Shisui. He gave the man a tiny smile. “I’m afraid I’m not very interesting.”  
  
Shisui gave Itachi a long, contemplative look as he chewed on the inside of his lip. The waitress came by to fill up his drink, and seemed highly put out when Shisui ignored her in favor of staring at Itachi. When Itachi gave her a smile, she seemed even more offended and went off with a scowl.  
  
“What are you?” Shisui asked, lips twisting and brow knitted tight. Itachi shrugged and took his last sip of tea.  
  
“I thought we weren’t talking about ourselves tonight.” Itachi raised his eyebrows. He earned a scowl, and then Shisui _had_ his wrist. Faster than Itachi could react, and he’d started moving break Shisui’s wrist before he recovered and let himself be yanked to his feet. His hip banged the table, almost upsetting the tea pot and coals.  
  
“Come on, I’ll teach you how to play Cuckold,” Shisui flashed Itachi a wildly suggestive look Itachi didn’t fully understand, and slammed them both down at a table filled with men and covered with a complicated array of game board, pieces and cards. Itachi noted the piles of money and sighed. This was going to be a very expensive night out.  
\---  
The next night, Itachi sat in another bar (one of four in town), drinking better tea and ignoring the offers of food. He was aware of the money he’d lost yesterday playing games, and while he had to order a drink to sit, he couldn’t justify the expense of food to himself tonight. Kakashi hadn’t made mentioned of it, and Itachi _had_ expected some kind of scolding for losing a week’s wages in a gambling game. They had limited funds to complete this venture, but Kakashi simply made a note of it and asked Itachi questions about his night out.

Itachi spent just as much time tonight contemplating what Kakashi thought of his performance as he did contemplating those around him. They were a cut better dressed than the crowd from last night, but they talked of all the same things: the aches of old bones, the whores of the town, the affairs of its people, and the changeable luck of fishing. It seemed the towns luck and trading had only run out within the past five years, and people hoped it would return. Most young people left as soon as they could, meaning young prostitutes were in high demand now. After an hour of making light conversation with someone, Itachi found he wasn’t totally surprised to see Shisui walking in, just as wet as he had been last night.  
  
Shisui made his round more discretely tonight, checking in with only five people before he made his way to Itachi’s table, sitting without invitation. Itachi filled the second cup with hot tea, and placed it in front of Shisui.  
  
“That confident, huh?” Itachi felt the cocky, mocking look in the tone of Shisui’s words, and simply smiled without giving Shisui the satisfaction of looking.   
  
“I am confident in my ability to gauge people.”  
  
Shisui snorted and turned the tea cup a quarter turn before sipping at it. He grumbled something about bitter flavors, but took another sip before cradling the hot cup in his hands. He looked at Itachi for a moment, and when Itachi glanced his way, he flashed that crooked grin, practically fanged and wicked tonight.  
  
“What is our protocol dictated subject of conversation for tonight?” Shisui asked in a stuffy voice, sniffing in a way he must have thought was aristocratic.  
  
Itachi hid a smile in his cup and thought a moment before setting it down. “You could tell me more about the town.” He stilled Shisui’s protest with a look. “My employer wanted us to...make sure that all was well here.”  
  
Shisui’s crooked grin widened. “Aaaah, that’s what you meant be a different perspective.” That elbow came up onto the table again, supporting Shisui’s neck as he looked at Itachi. “Ask away. We’ll call this a business meeting.”  
  
“Everyone seems content enough, but is that because of Shishio-sama’s rule or the lack of it?  I haven’t seen any of his guards of officials about since I’ve been here--at least no one bearing his crest . . .” Itachi looked at Shisui expectantly. Shisui took a few moments to ponder the question, though Itachi got the feeling it was all show. Shisui had to be clever. That was one of the reasons Itachi had chosen him for this. After last night’s game, he also gauged the man something of an outsider in this town while still inside enough to know what Itachi needed to know.  
  
“It’s raining. You just haven’t seen ‘em cause you haven’t been hiding out in the brothels. When it’s raining, what is there to do but screw the wenches? Hardly any different from what they do on a daily basis.” Shisui dropped his voice low, leaning closer. Itachi glanced around the room, but only a few people seemed interested.  
  
“Worried someone might overhear you?” Itachi asked, leaning away a bit.  
  
“You’re right, this is sensitive information, and if you want the whole truth and nothing but, we need some privacy,” Shisui nodded towards the man behind the bar. “Lucky for you, they have private dining rooms here.”  
  
Itachi shook his head. “You cleaned me out last night.”  
  
Shisui chuckled, a much better sound than his brash laugh of last night. It sounded like a busy brook, amiable and gentle. “More luck for you, I feel guilty about taking all your money. I’ll pay. You can make it up to me later.” Another suggestive flash of a smile, mirrored by the crinkle of his eyes. Shisui downed the rest of his tea. Itachi left a tip for the server and stood slowly. He didn’t know for certain what Shisui meant, but he did feel confident that he could get out of any situation he was pushed into.   
  
Shisui chatted animatedly with the man behind the bar for ten minutes before he turned away, swinging the heavy wet cloak around him. Shisui flicked a hand for Itachi to follow and hurried up some stairs. Itachi shook his head and followed more slowly. Now he got a few curious glances, but he ignored them as he walked up the wooden stairs. As he topped them, he found Shisui waiting, shifting from foot to foot.  
  
“Well, come on, didn’t you want to know?” Shisui caught Itachi’s arm and pulled him along. He was still wet enough that it soaked through Itachi’s sleeve before they reached the door. Shisui yanked the door open, bowed, and motioned Itachi inside. “Ladies first.”  
  
Itachi sent Shisui a disparaging glance and walked in. The room had a large window, and the rain beat steadily on it. A table sat in the middle, thick rugs covered the floor, and a very interesting reclining couch rest by the window. Private rooms. Itachi shook his head and took a seat at the table, sliding his damp cloak over the back of his chair. Shisui flipped his own off and hung it up on the wall. Instead of sitting on the chair, Shisui flopped down on the table.  
  
"So, what are you?"  
  
"A scholar." The lie came easily. Shisui looked skeptical. Itachi shrugged. "I was studying when my father fell into debt. I took this job to help him pay it off." Itachi tipped his head and looked up at Shisui. "I still hope to go back to that."  
  
Shisui scoffed. "And what did you study? Rocks?"  
  
"Ideas, mostly, the condition of the human mind, but some about rocks," Itachi sat a little straighter in his chair and shrugged casually.  
  
"And what is the condition of the human mind?" Shisui countered, challenging look in his eyes.  
  
"Depends on the man," Itachi forestalled Shisui's protest by holding up a hand. "Before you ask, I have yet to decide on more than generalities for yours."  
  
Shisui leaned back.  "Well, aren't you a quick study? What are my generalities?"  
  
"Inconstancy," That earned him a sharp look. "Inquisitiveness, wit, pride, and selfishness."  
  
"You certainly know how to compliment someone." It amused Itachi that Shisui should look so put out.  
  
"I could be wrong," Itachi shrugged as if it didn't matter. "I think you're also hiding twice as much as you've told me if that makes you feel any better."  
  
Shisui scoffed. "You think I'd give you the cards this early in the game?"  
  
"Oh, you don't have to give them. I can find them for myself." Itachi folded his hands in his lap. Shisui’s bright eyed, no doubt scathing comment was cut off by the arrival of dinner. Shisui turned his attention to the women then, flirting and teasing, standing too close and chattering the entire time they were in the room. As they left, Shisui snapped the door shut and then turned on Itachi with a grin.  
  
"Now that we're alone and assured of no interruptions, we can get down to serious business." Shisui sat on the table again as Itachi pulled a plate to himself. His mouth was watering.  
  
"You were going to elaborate on the true political state of the town?" Itachi prompted softly. Shisui looked at him hard for a moment, and then sat on the other side of the table with a sigh.  
  
"If you insist..."  
  
“So, you want to know about Shishio, hm? All the ins and outs of the political waves here?” Shisui leaned back on the table. “Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Shisui’s smile stretched wide, and Itachi knew he’d picked a good informant. Clever only began to cover it.


	2. Watching Eyes

For every night it rained, Itachi rotated establishments. Every night, Shisui found him. Two more ‘private dinners’ happened, where Itachi learned all was not well in the little town and maybe the people themselves would be happy with a different leader. As long as Shishio didn’t have a chance to press them into service, the common people shouldn’t be a problem. Shisui did like to talk. Itachi learned everything about the town, from who sold the best meat to what venereal disease the local lord had. Not always things he wanted to know, but Itachi felt he knew the town much better than he had. He had the mental shape of the inhabitants almost set in his head, and it reminded him a bit of home. It was odd Shisui was able to give such objective and truly insightful views of things, though he often hid them in the middle of so much verbal garbage they looked like they happened on accident.

  
"You need to go meet our contact this afternoon." Kakashi handed Itachi a folded map.  
  
"I thought you were handling the contact?" Itachi carefully unfolded the paper. The keyed message was written out in Kakashi's elegant script. The meeting place was across the island.  
  
"I was invited for supper at the target's manor--fortress," Kakashi waved a hand. "You weren't the only one out making friends this week."  
  
"I'm so happy for you." Had Kakashi followed Itachi’s lead, or delayed his planned action to see what Itachi would do? Did it matter? It made Itachi feel a little better about his actions. He wondered if _that_ was why Kakashi was giving him charge of their contact.

Itachi tucked the map into his pocket and wondered who this contact was. He gave no more credence to Kakashi's implications it was an Uchiha than he had before, and while the town was filled with stories of demons and gods, he could find nothing that suggested a missing-nin made his home here or had stayed here for any amount of time. He didn’t know how the informant would be able to tell them anything about this place they hadn’t already learned.  
  
"You remember his name?" Kakashi didn't seem concerned, but he was still sloppily dressed for sleeping and it helped him exude an aura of total unconcern.  
  
"Hachibana Kosuke," Itachi rattled the name off. "I'm to ask him how the fishing is on the South side of the island." He began to gather his clothes. "How soon should I expect you back?"  
  
"I hope not until late." Meaning Kakashi trusted Itachi to not get knocked off by their contact. Itachi didn't think the trust was unwarranted, but he felt gratified all the same. His clan had stopped treating him as a child when he hit Jounin, but the rest of the world saw his small frame and large eyes before the knife he could shove into their gut. The misconception proved useful in fights, but annoying in comrades.  
  
"Should I be ready to use violence?" Even though it was early, Itachi knew it would take him an hour or more to get across the island to the meeting point. If he was going to make the surveying story believable, he would need to bring back samples for Kakashi, and even a few sketches. Those he could gather before he met the contact. Collecting the samples and the sketches would be tedious. Itachi could see why Kakashi would so neatly avoided the task, but Itachi didn't mind collecting and sketching. He found these parts of the mission more palatable than the killing to come. It should have made him a sub-par ninja. Somehow, instead, he'd become a genius.  
  
"No, the three people who've actually made contact with him said he was suspicious and any coercive violence would just lose him." Kakashi poured himself half a cup of coffee. He cut it the rest of the way with cream and seated himself like a cat in the window seat. Few ninja would ever willingly put their backs to a window, yet Kakashi seemed completely at ease. Perhaps he could be so since Itachi was watching the fog through the window as he listened to his sempai.  
  
"Others?" Itachi pulled out one of his father's favorite looks. The rather disdainful 'what have you been withholding, minion' look. Whatever else he was, Fugaku could make a daimyo feel like a street sweeper. Itachi couldn’t do it as well; it came off as snotty and bratty with his age. Kakashi, socially inept as he seemed to be, probably thought it was endearing, like a growling lap dog.  
  
"One from Grass, one from Kumo, one from Konoha." Kakashi took a long sip of his creamed coffee. "The one from Grass after deciding that Kosuke had learned too much helping him, decided to sue for him to be a Grass-nin. Kosuke refused, the Grass-nin tried to use force and woke up without knowing what had happened to him or what Kosuke had known. The one from Kumo tried to...encourage Kosuke to reveal some secrets he held without friendly bargaining.  He woke up with five broken ribs and missing three fingers and only vaguely remembered who Kosuke was. The Konoha-nin was trying to make a deal, and lightly let slip a perfectly idle threat as some ninja are wont to do. He also woke up with no idea how he'd been disabled.  
  
"Now," Kakashi again paused for an exceedingly long drink of coffee that had to drain half the cup. "All three remember nothing about Kosuke but his name, though the Konoha-nin claimed to see remember red eyes. None of them could ever be persuaded to deal with him again. You see, our Kosuke is quite skittish."  
  
"That's why you think he's an Uchiha? Red eyes and genjutsu and three men who can't even remember a face?" Itachi raised an eyebrow. "It is a shallow pool for such a deep assumption."  
  
Kakashi's eyebrow quirked back. "There are others, very reliable sources that have hinted he might be, also those who have had successful transactions with him agree he has exceptional genjutsu abilities."  
  
Itachi hummed assent, moving about the room now to gather what he would need for the day. Food. He would need a lot of food to stay warm, even though the day was only cool. He hated the cold. He burned energy so much faster on cold days. "I assume some of these people, who tactfully remain nameless, are people Kosuke has worked for?"  
  
"A reliable missing-nin, who would have thought? Far cheaper than hiring from a village." Kakashi's tone was amused. Riskier too. Not all missing-nin were out of control killers. Ninja were exiled for political reasons all the time. Some could seek admittance to another village if they could be “exonerated.” Some stopped being ninja all together and moved on to a quieter life. Others lived on the fringes, working a background ninja market where word of mouth meant everything, and high risk missions could be cheaper than the price of a week's bread. Surviving that way was hard, risky, and to do it, one had to be excellent. Most high standard ninja did not get exiled for anything but the greatest of offenses, so most Missing-nin worth hiring were the killers. Usually.  
  
Kosuke seemed an anomaly, both valuable and dangerous without being a branded killer. Reliable enough that word of mouth got him informant jobs from ninja in good standing with a village, but strong enough to keep himself from getting entangled in a place he couldn’t escape. Smart too. Itachi would have to keep his guard up for this one. He didn’t think it would be a problem.  
  
“Anything else I need to know, Kakashi-san?” Itachi pulled his shirt over his head, grabbing for the fitted turtle neck that made his normal dress. Body shyness had never been an issue for him. The body operated as a tool. Itachi’s obviously operated just fine for him, therefor he had nothing to be ashamed of. Also, Kakashi, for all his perversion, had never even made a slight pass at Itachi. There had been a class on how to recognize the unwanted solicitations of an older ninja in the Academy, and Itachi had gotten top marks in _all_ of his classes.  
  
“No...try not to die. My return to Konoha would be unpleasant if you did,” Kakashi decided slowly.  
  
“Even the great copy-nin fears the head of the Uchiha clan?” Itachi grabbed up his cloak and his bag.  
  
“No. . .” Kakashi rubbed his nose. “Your little brother. . .Sasuke. He’d stop at nothing to avenge your death, no matter who was at fault.” There were times, such as these, where Kakashi’s words and actions felt almost friendly—deadpan teasing and the absent confidence that made Itachi instantly feel a sense of belonging. If Itachi could feel it weren’t calculated, he’d be able to relax a little more.  
  
Itachi shook his head and pulled his cloak over his shoulders. He checked his hidden weapons one more time and then headed out the door. He stopped by the kitchen to get some food, stopping long enough to talk to the cook. The woman had taken a liking to him, probably because she had children of her own all grown and Itachi, while playing years older than he was, still looked young. She responded wonderfully to smiles, and he did smile for this mission.  He was supposed to be _congenial_ and _pleasant_ , and he found acting so nice felt much like meeting people’s eyes. The normalcy of the act made him uncomfortable, as he’d been trained to never show his emotions and to distance himself from civilians.

Itachi finally extricated himself from the friendly cook, loaded with enough lunch for two and some sweet cakes—just in case. Itachi began winding his way out of the village, pausing to greet the few people he’d met in the inns and taverns over the rainy week. They all remembered him, and Itachi made certain that all knew what he was going to do, asking advice from some on areas he should survey. The ease with which he could be earnest about this all bothered him a bit—not because he could but because it felt so natural. Certainly he’d been trained in undercover work, but acting as a normal member of society should chafe. It should bother him, or make him feel something other than completely at home in this little village, moreso than he’d felt in his own clan compound.

 

“Oi, new boy—Inari!”

 

Itachi turned his head, finding one of the inn keeper’s whose place he’d frequented standing in front of his little inn, broom in hand. Itachi smiled pleasantly and walked close. The man’s short beard was streaked with white from facial scars people claimed were from fishing and fighting. Evidently the man had been good at both.

 

“You’ve been hanging with that Shisui, haven’t you?” The man (Hama, Itachi remembered. Named for the shore so he would always be able to find it.) asked, leaning forward on his broom. One of his eyes was white, filmed over and blind as it stared ahead at nothing. People claimed Hama could see true with that eye, but this island was stuffed full of superstitions like that.

 

“I’ve spent a few evenings with him,” Itachi allowed. He still held it was more Shisui following him around than anything else.

 

“Evenings, aye? Azami said he’s had you up in her private dining room twice in the past week,” Hama crossed his arms over his broom, and Itachi wondered if he should be offended.

“He was telling me about the town,” Itachi offered slowly.

“She said he bought you dinner both nights.”

“With my own money he had won off of me playing a game I didn’t know the rules for.” Itachi didn’t quite understand what the man was getting at. Certainly Shisui was objectionable company, but he wasn’t that bad.

“So you know what he is, then,” Hama nodded, but as Itachi continued to look blank, he sighed. “The boy’s got a bit of Trickster in him. Any traveler who comes through should be wary of ones like him. Tricksters don’t care if you’re kind or fair.”

For a moment, Itachi expected the man was joking, and then he realized he wasn’t. He really did think Shisui was a Trickster spirit. Shisui was, perhaps, a conman, and the islanders had labeled him a Trickster than admit a normal human being had deceived them. Shisui was clever enough to make someone think he was something other than human. He might even plat the rumor up to his advantage.

“I appreciate your concern, and I will watch myself and my goods more closely.” Itachi pulled out the carefully learned smile he’d been using all week and the man relaxed.

“You’re a good sort.” Hama decided, or declared, as if this truly confirmed Itachi was a good sort. “I’d hate to see you come to harm over the likes of him.”

 Itachi smiled and nodded. “I would hate for myself to come to harm as well…” Itachi paused. “Do you…have any suggestions for places I might look? The Western shoreline covers a vast distance, and I think my search would go better if it were guided by someone who knows the island better than I do.”

 Hama likely knew little about rocks, but he thawed anyway to Itachi’s probing. Flattery, no matter how false, could make anyone soften. Itachi studiously wrote notes and marked his map in all the places Hama told him to search. He’d drop by the areas in case he was asked about them later. Just in case, because Itachi had no intention of making any missteps on his first undercover mission. He was also told to visit the seaside shrine and get himself a good charm—just in case.

 Armed with Hama’s points and advice, Itachi left the village. In this persona, he couldn’t use chakra, which made the slow walk down to the shoreline tedious. The sandals still troubled him, and he couldn’t decide why boots were not acceptable footwear here. He tried to think of it as a balance exercise, though he’d always done those with chakra and still almost slipped into using it every time he wobbled. Thankfully, the fog was lifting, though it still clung to low places in the ground.

 As the town receded behind him, the path became rougher.  Rocks tumbled into it and Itachi made his way around or over them. The path was ill cared for, as most of the fishermen used the little bay that butted right up against the town, but the waters to enter that bay were treacherous. It was said that each family had to make a pact with the Sasunoo to be allowed to pass through the maze of rocks and difficult currents successfully. Itachi smiled at such quaintness. It _did_ make like more interesting, he thought. He did wonder what it would be like to actually believe those things without any doubt.

 

He left the black sand path and started up a narrower one of rock. With the map firmly in his mind, Itachi oriented himself with the hazy sun and decided this path would serve him well enough. The clouds still covered the sky, but the sun seemed to be slowly burning them off. Compared to the heat of Konoha, this island was pleasantly cool, though he felt like he was drinking with each breath he pulled in. It gave the air a heavy scent, something tinted by the smell of the sea, but something earthier as well.

 

Itachi wound his way through the rocks, which got larger and more irregular the farther he went. The path all but vanished, and Itachi gave up, crawling over rocks and beginning to feel like a child.  And enjoying himself, he had to admit, but only to himself. He despised fighting, but he liked doing kata and the other less deadly skills. He loved tree jumping, and being able to get so high so quickly. It was a shame people insisted on turning these skills into weapons, and that to learn them meant you would one day kill on command.

 

Itachi pushed those thoughts, evermore troubling the older he got and the day he would be _asked_ explicitly to kill came closer, out of his mind. He used no chakra today, simple relied on his own muscle and sense of balance to keep himself from falling on his face or twisting an ankle.  Itachi gained the top of a six foot boulder and looked around. He could see the very tops of the village buildings from here, and also the sea barely visibly through the morning fog. He could also hear the sea, but you could hear it anywhere on this small island. It made up the ever present pulse of the place, almost like a heartbeat.

 

Itachi sat down and pulled out his sketching book. He looked at the landscape around him and decided that he should practice a bit. He’d learned sketching in the Academy, something to give anyone he was working with a clear picture of the location he was speaking of, or any strange symbols or signs he might encounter. In preparation for joining the police force when he was older, Itachi had been drilled in sketching people, usually from simple descriptions. He had never been good at that, but he could now properly, if simply, render what he saw around him on paper.

 And it pleased him to no end he could do this without his Sharingan now.

 In preparation for this mission, Itachi had begun practicing his sketching again in the week it had taken to get here. He thought it would be logical for someone like him to have a slightly used book, mostly of the greenery from other islands they’d passed on the way here. He did have a few sketches of Kakashi, his face, hand, other random things.

 Itachi turned to a new page and smoothed the paper under his hand. He pulled out a graphite pencil and began to sketch. He opened his senses as he sketched, trying to seem absorbed while remaining aware. He still carried the feeling someone was watching him. He could sense nothing but the prickling feeling up and down his spine that someone watched him, tracking his every motion. His father had told him to act as if he were watched at every moment.

 Could it be his silent watcher was an ANBU evaluator, here to gauge his performance? Kakashi certainly hadn’t seemed very interested in how Itachi spent his time, giving Itachi the very pleasant illusion that they were equals. He must remember that they were not, and he was on trial here. Itachi finished the last strokes of his sketch and looked from what covered two pages of paper to what stretched around him. He nodded to himself and closed the book. It would do.

 Itachi stood and descended from his perch. His thrice cursed sandal slipped, and he almost used chakra to catch himself. The eyes kept him from it, and he tumbled down to land painfully on the rocks instead. Itachi winced and rubbed his shoulder as he clambered back to his feet. Stay in character. Stay in character. He must remember he was Inari, not Itachi, not a ninja.

 Because _someone_ was watching, and Itachi hadn’t spent all his life under the eyes of a clan that saw _everything_ to be unnerved by a silent watcher. It wouldn’t be an Uchiha; Itachi could fool them.

\--

Itachi found himself enjoying the next few, very slow hours. His awareness of the eyes faded as the morning went on, and after visiting a few sites, he’d almost forgotten about playing a part. He felt he almost was this bumbling apprentice floundering around among the rocks for the sake of finding something that might not be there at all.

 He wasn’t good at it. He wasn’t actually that sure what he was looking for, and his sketches, the longer he worked on them, struck him as increasingly childish. He wandered from place to place, acting on whim instead of solid plans, twisting his way aimlessly around as he pleased from point to point. He couldn’t remember such an unstructured morning, though he did have a task and was technically completing it.

 Itachi passed various seaside shrines, some older ones crammed in among the rocks and grown over with moss. He paused to right one, and as he straightened, he became aware that the eyes had gone. Itachi glanced around and wondered if the villagers talk of restless spirits and such could have any truth. It didn’t, couldn’t. Konoha didn’t hold so tightly to the old superstitions, and when Itachi had mentioned the villager’s antiquated belief, the Kakashi had shrugged and said ‘we’re in Mist.’

 

With that thought fresh in his mind, Itachi settled himself down near a stream to sketch the surrounding area after he’d collected some samples of rocks. The quick little stream had eaten away at the stony bed, making an overhang out of it. Itachi wondered if this island had many sea caves, and if there might be some around the manor.

 

“Busy and boring as usual?”

 

Itachi flipped his hold on the book without thinking, and whipped around, judging from the noise and sudden sense of _presence_ where he should aim. Itachi froze as he came half around and Shisui skipped quickly back, holding up his hands.

 

“All right, all right, no need to brain a body. Just trying to start a conversation.” Shisui, fishing rod in one hand, waved his hands complacently, a little wild around his eyes and mouth. “But you’re a jumpy one tiday.”

 

Itachi slowly forced himself to relax. He remembered Hama’s warning, but, really, a con would not work on him. He was a ninja, not the naïve scholar he played. Itachi schooled up a sheepish smile, something easier than the smile he’d given Hama.

 

“I’m sorry I. . .” Itachi pounced for the truth. “I’ve felt like someone was watching me all day. It’s made me a little nervous.” Shisui watched warily a moment longer, then he smiled and padded forward, sinking down to sit a bit closer to the stream than Itachi.

 “The oni getting after you? You should carry a charm.” Shisui flipped the collar of his gi over to show Itachi the charm bag pinned to the inside, close to his heart. “Keep the spirits and demons from munching on your yummy little soul.” Itachi couldn’t tell if Shisui was serious or not, so he simply nodded. Shisui’s grin broke wider, and he settled himself heavier on the rocks, pulling his hook around to bait it with little dead minnows. Itachi watched Shisui cast and decided that, yes, the man had just decided to take up where Itachi was again, without asking.

 “What important boring things are you doing today?” Shisui asked. Everything else went oddly still, his eyes concentrated on the thin string trailing into the water. Shisui had always been kinetic before, and it was odd to see him go motionless.

 “Collecting samples and making sketches,” Itachi explained. When Shisui glanced over, Itachi tipped the book in his lap so Shisui could see the sketch. Itachi felt suddenly self-conscious of his sketches as Shisui leaned over to get a better look and stayed bent over for the better part of a minute before he sat back and looked at his line.

 “Issat part of being of scholarly,” Shisui pulled what he probably thought was a very proper accent. “Learning to draw the local flora and fauna, which in this location happens to be rocks? What’s the fancy name for rocks?”

 “It depends on the kind,” Itachi evaded. “Should I leave you to fish?”

 Shisui scoffed and shook his head. “No. Fishing’s boring. You can stay and doodle while I try to catch my supper.” Shisui paused then added: “And talk to me, because there’s no point in sitting here if you’re not going to be _entertaining_.” Shisui cast Itachi a quick, sharp look. “And you like to listen too much.”

 Itachi shook his head. “I prefer to listen.”

 “As much as I’d love to spin you sugar lace tales of oni devouring maiden virgins so save their true loves, it would distract me, and then I’d go hungry,” Shisui explained calmly. “I _think_ you’d have guilt over that, but I could be wrong. Maybe you’d just philosophize it away and tell me that hunger builds character, which is only ever said by men who had never missed more than one meal in a row.”

 “This is how you catch fish? You talk them from the water?” Itachi propped his elbow on his knee, and chin on his hand. “I’ve been doing it wrong all these years, it seems.”

 Shisui laughed. “So you _can_ make jokes. I was beginning to wonder.” Shisui cast Itachi a delighted look, his crooked, fanged grin much too wide across his rough face. “I thought you were going to be no fun at all. Now, come on, you talk, I’ll listen, and we’ll be all companionable.” 

“What should I talk about?” Itachi pressed. He truly had no idea. Idle chatter had never been encouraged in his household, and he’d never had any close friends to converse with. Sasuke was more interested in talking than in listening, unless he wanted a story to be told to him.

 

“Anything. Your family, your life, your lovers,” Shisui waggled his eyebrows for the last then shrugged. His hands didn’t move a twitch. “Anything.”

 

Itachi turned his eyes back to the book. Perhaps he should try to draw Shisui into revealing more about the village. Perhaps he should say something about himself. In any case, Itachi didn’t think that he should prattle on. With his lack of experience, he might let something slip he didn’t intend. He envied Shisui’s free flowing chatter, which seemed so natural for him and it _never_ revealed anything but the inane or what he wanted it to.

 

Itachi twisted the pencil in his fingers at stared out across the water as the silence stretched longer. Everything that tumbled through his head seemed far too important to tell Shisui, lest he divine something of Itachi’s true purpose.

 

Shisui heaved a huge sigh. “So. What do you think of the _weather_.”

 

Itachi felt his cheeks heat, but he cleared his throat and worked up an answer. “It’s too wet. And different.” Itachi felt a sudden pang of homesickness. Was Sasuke missing him? What was his brother up to today? This would be the longest mission Itachi had ever been on, in part because he was being so methodical about it. Kakashi had agreed to a longer time, since the rain would delay everything. Itachi wondered if that would count against him, but could he sacrifice civilian’s lives just to make himself look better?

 Did he really want to get into ANBU anyway?

 Itachi realized Shisui was waiting for him to say something else. Itachi breathed out and shifted himself into a more comfortable position. He pushed his bangs back behind his ear, realizing the damp had made his hair frizzy. “Is it always thi—“

 “AP!” Shisui’s sharp rebuke had Itachi jumping. “No asking me questions. How old are you?”

 “Fifteen.”

 “Fish innards, you’re thirteen if you’re a tide turn,” Shisui countered, his smirking grin creeping up his face. “Did you run away from home or something?”

 “I _am_ fifteen, and no, I did not,” Itachi retorted. He tapped his pencil on the book and decided that talking would be better than letting Shisui ask him questions. “I’ve just lead a…rather secluded life with my studies. I didn’t expect to travel and find myself dealing with people like you.”

 “So you talk like someone shoved a book down your throat,” Shisui nodded to himself. “You need more experience before you’re ready to face the real world. How have you managed so far without getting robbed blind?”

 “I don’t know. You’re the Trickster, why haven’t you robbed me blind?” _Ashes_ , that was not what he’d planned to say.

 Much to Itachi’s surprise, Shisui dipped his head back and laughed. It wasn’t like the chuckle or the brash laugh, but louder and cleaner. Itachi found it discomfiting, but in an oddly pleasant manner. No, no, Itachi found the noise _pleasing_ , but not in a comfortable and usual manner making Sasuke laugh did.

 “You’ve found me out,” Shisui smothered the laugh into a giggle. “Who ratted on me? Ayame? Kisuke? Sora?”

 “Hama,” Itachi conceded after he decided that Shisui’s laughing was truly goodwill.

 “Tides turning, you sleep with a guy’s daughter once and he never forgives you,” Shisui sighed. “He would have gone on thinking she was virtuous enough for a shrine offering if he hadn’t decided to wake her up an hour early. If he’d started that practice a few years earlier, he might have caught the original culprit.”

 “Surely that’s not the only thing you’ve done.” And Shisui’s grin said no, it certainly wasn’t. He shifted back and forth, hand motionless.

 “Perhaps _not_ , but that’s the only thing I ever did to him. The cook at the Dolphin’s Spout will say about the same stuff about me, but Kisuke will tell you to watch your wallet ‘cause I’m a cheat at cards,” Shisui explained with a wry shake of his head. “I don’t con people, I just do things that they don’t want me to or think I shouldn’t be able to.” Itachi thought Hama probably had the right of it, actually, but he nodded. He wanted to get as much information out of Shisui as possible, and he could be useful in other ways. It would be better not to alienate him by calling him a cheat.

 

Itachi expected Shisui to begin prattling, but he fell into silence and didn’t prompt Itachi to speak again. Itachi continued sketching, though he already had one view of the area. He glanced at Shisui. There was something familiar about the set of his nose and his cheekbones. He didn’t look like the other villagers, or anyone else Itachi could call to mind.

 

Itachi finally felt he could make no more delays. He closed his book, three more pages filled and slowly pulled himself up off the rocky ground. “I should be going.”

 

Shisui flicked his line from the stream. “Finally. I thought you’d never finish drawing your rocks.” Shisui started winding his line around the pole.

 

Itachi paused and gave the man a bewildered look. “But…you were fishing for your supper.” He bit off the ‘you said so’ as it would make him sound like the child he wasn’t. Or that he was pretending not to be. He _knew_ Shisui would tease him about it.

 

“Course I was, or trying to, but this time of year you have better luck with traps on the coast then fishing in the stream,” Shisui shrugged. “Thought I’d give it a try, but I didn’t expect to catch anything.” Shisui smiled. Except, maybe he’d meant to catch Itachi, to lure him in another inch or so for whatever Shisui had planned. Itachi was becoming more and more aware that Shisui’s attentions were more than casual. He expected something to happen, or to get something out of their interactions. Perhaps it was money, perhaps he was simply bored with this town and amusing himself with the newest addition.

 Fine. Itachi would play that game and draw his own benefits from it.

 “Ah, come on, Inari, don’t give me that suspicious look. You can’t _really_ believe what they say about me, not after everything I’ve told you? Aren’t you supposed to be a good judge of people?” Shisui dropped his shoulders and looked morose. “You don’t actually believe all this superstitious nonsense, do you?”

 “No, but you have a reputation. Why would they lie to me?” Itachi asked as he started walking. He oriented himself with the sun and started for his next spot.

 “Because, if I were someone who _belonged_ , they wouldn’t say things like that. They’d say I’d had some bad habits, but since I’m not _them_ , I’m bad. I’m something dangerous they need to warn people about. The monster in the shallows…” Shisui glanced at Itachi. Of course, he was following the boy. “Haven’t you ever been outside of something? Haven’t you heard the way they talked about you?”

 “No.” He was a Konha-nin. He was inside. No, he was an Uchiha. He was part of Konoha, but held at arm’s length by many, wasn’t he?

 Shisui’s laugh mocked him. “You have. You don’t really belong anywhere, do you? You just think you do because no one actually knows what you _really_ think.” Itachi sensed Shisui was just trying to needle him into a reaction. Or he thought, because there was no way Shisui could know about Itachi’s thoughts and doubts of his current life. Simply no way. Shisui continued, his hands, pole included, gesturing and flicking to encompass the subject.

 “That’s why you act so proper around your partner. Kaika. Like you’re walking on eggs, and he doesn’t care one way or another about you. He just watches you flounder around and do all the work while he drinks it up in the high-class brothels.”

 Itachi’s hands gripped his bag. “I have a family.”

 “Do you belong with them? Your father who got so far into debt that he sold you off to pay for it? Some kind of loving family,” Shisui scoffed.

 “I’m here to uphold my families honor. There is nothing wrong with that,” Itachi protested softly, struggling to keep his control. He could do this. Shisui had no idea what he was talking about. He was just…playing--weaving words and thoughts in and out of Itachi’s skull like he was embroidering some fanciful masterpiece.  Itachi closed his eyes and he could see the pattern Shisui’s quick tongue, even his flashing fingers, tried to stitch into Itachi’s brain.

 “Nothing wrong with it, but it doesn’t mean you belong. I mean, they sent you _away_ to help them. What does that say? Did your mother kiss you cheek when you left? Did your father clap you on the arm and thank you? Or did they just send you away with nothing, because you know your duty to your family, and you do it like a right and proper little son?” Shisui slashed a jagged red string through his tapestry.

 “Stop.”

 

Shisui stopped and looked back at Itachi, that cocky look on his face, challenging Itachi to deny him. To do anything, maybe to lose his temper. If you could rattle a target, you could learn more from them. Itachi forced his body relaxed, strained his voice to be calm.

 

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop misaligning my family.” Itachi managed to keep his voice level, and Shisui looked serious as well right before he burst into laughter.

 

“They don’t really love you, do they?”

 

Itachi looked at Shisui, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. He should laugh and say of course they did. He should laugh it off, but it was true, wasn’t it? He was just their genius. Their ticket to success and fame, it didn’t matter that it was true, he still needed to shake it off and act as if everything were normal. He needed to stay in character.

 

Maybe Inari’s family didn’t love him either.

 Itachi smiled, but he had no idea how it looked. “I have a little brother.”

 “And he loves you?” Shisui cocked an eyebrow, and Itachi realized how desperate that sounded, but Shisui didn’t know Sasuke. Itachi could live if Sasuke loved him. It was all he needed. All he would ever need.

 “He does.” Itachi nodded, and his smile shifted into something he could control. Itachi started walking again. In a few moments, Shisui’s footsteps followed him down the path. Shisui didn’t speak for a while, then he gained Itachi’s side, hopping competently from rock to rock beside the path.

 “So, why are you looking at rocks today?” Shisui asked slowly.

 “Mining prospects.”

 “I see...” Shisui’s tone said that was possibly the most boring reason to look for rock, but he then began to pry Itachi with inane questions, such as his favorite food, why he kept his hair so long, and the color of his underwear. Itachi, still unsteady from Shisui’s earlier attack, answered slowly or not at all, but Shisui kept walking beside him. Oddly, so very oddly, that was all right with Itachi.

~

They parted ways after sharing Itachi’s lunch, Itachi feeling much firmer in his façade of Inari after playing off of Shisui all day. Itachi headed back for the town, Shisui went to check his nets and go wherever he went. Itachi went as far up the path to the village as was convenient, and then he cut back down towards the beach. He checked his map and set out for the meeting place.

 Itachi used chakra now, slithering between rocks and over them to get to the impossible little cove. He realized why it had been chosen. It was almost impossible for a ninja to get here by land, and, as he caught a glimpse of the cove below, it wasn’t big enough to risk bringing a boat into it, not far, at least.

 Itachi dropped down into the black rock and walked out under a small overhang.  It offered perfect cover from the wider water outside the cove, which was so rock strewn it had to be useless. Itachi tightened his cloak over his shoulders as he felt the cool wind blow in from the ocean. He smelled the brine and salt and fish. He didn’t know if he disliked the smell, or if he were getting used to it.

 Itachi glanced around the little cove and saw no trace of the informant. Perhaps Itachi had missed him, but Itachi had arrived earlier than the sunset meeting. He’d wanted to part ways with Shisui and leave himself plenty of time to get here. Itachi decided he would map the area while he waited, just in case things went wrong.

 

As he stepped out of the little overhang, he could see the open water better. Itachi saw an odd splash raised, felt an odd flicker. He paced slowly forward, his Sharingan activating as he looked.

 

What he saw took his breath away.

 

Faster than thought, than lightning, than anything, someone was flickering over the water. _Shunshin_. Each turn and pause kicked up a small rooster tail of water that caught the sun. The water was already aflame, and these flickers—explosions of water looked like stars crashing down. Itachi could not make out the figure, but this _had_ to be their informant. He could _barely_ make out the afterimages of the active chakra, the stress of trying to track the movement causing pain in his eyes. He couldn’t follow it. He, the Uchiha genius, could _not_.

 

Itachi shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.

 

As his feet crunched on the smaller rocks by the water line, Itachi was spotted. The flicker shifted, and Itachi cut his Sharingan off quickly. The informant landed on the beach, damp to the knee and slowly straightened to look at Itachi, knife in one hand. Shock raced evident across his face as he saw Itachi, but Itachi couldn’t help a smile as he took the young man in.

Hachibana Yosuke was in his mid to late teens. He was gangly and stringy rather than broad, though his shoulders were much wider than Itachi’s. The hands curled half defensively at his sides were broad and scarred. His wide eyes were brown, his hair a shocking riot of curls. His chapped lips struggled for a moment to speak.

 “Inari…hell and devils, Inari, how did you even get here? You can’t tell anyone, all right? Please, don’t tell anyone,” Shisui begged, approaching Itachi with the hostility in his body language dropping, dread replacing it. Of course, if Shisui were Hachibana Yosuke, then having anyone tell his secret around town would ruin his chances for meeting up with his Konoha informants.

 “How’s the fishing on the southern side?” Itachi repeated the message he’d been given by Kakashi.

 Shisui froze. “What? I-I haven’t been to check my nets…” That wasn’t the response he was supposed to give.

 “How’s the fishing on the southern side?” Itachi repeated with impatience. This was…wonderful. Shisui was Hachibana Kosuke. He was the informant, and Itachi already _knew_ he was useful. He knew they could work together. And how _fast_ Shisui had moved!

 Itachi saw Shisui’s face shift after the second repetition. Shisui looked like Itachi had just offered him a child’s corpse. He recognized the words, as the color drained from his face. Tension curled his body almost in on itself, and Itachi felt only a slight alarm.

“You’re Hachibana Kosuke.” Itachi forged on without the proper response. The name caused Shisui to pale further. He _was_ their informant. Itachi’s lips twitched a little more.

“No, no, you weren’t supposed to be…” Shisui’s desperate plea seemed so at odds with the situation, Itachi stopped. He looked at Shisui, his form dropping, wondering what was going wrong. Itachi took a step forward, and Shisui took one back. Ashes, was he going to run? As fast as Shisui had just been, he might out distance Itachi. He could lose him in the rocks, and that was _not_ acceptable.

Itachi lunged forward and grabbed Shisui’s arm, fully prepared for an assault. His eyes burned red to catch any flicker of movement, and Shisui swore. Low, guttural, strained and desperate.

“ _Amateresu’s tits._ ” Shisui hissed. His hand suddenly clamped on Itachi’s chin, and Itachi found himself looking into red eyes. His heartbeat doubled. Shisui was an Uchiha. The red of Shisui’s eyes burned and tore into Itachi’s, and the world burst black.

~

_I didn’t want you to forget._

“You didn’t meet our informant yesterday?” Kakashi asked over breakfast.

“No,” Itachi brushed his hair and fussed over a tangle.

“Are you sure you didn’t just miss him?” Kakashi pressed. He was giving Itachi that vague look that meant he was intensely interested in Itachi, which wasn’t good. Would Itachi’s failure to meet with the informant count too hard against him? He didn’t see how it was his fault the nin had failed to show.

Itachi shook his head. “I waited for three hours in the cove and didn’t see him. We’ll have to do this on our own.” Kakashi didn’t ask if it had been the right cove, if it had been the right time. He just nodded and went back to drinking his tea and reading his erotic books.

Itachi stood and walked to the bathroom, still picking on the knots in his hair. He looked up at himself in the mirror. His eyes bled from grey to red.

He hit the door five minutes later, hair down, throwing on his cloak as he left.

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	3. Lying Tongues

_I don't want your future_   
_I don't need your past_   
_One bright moment_   
_Is all I ask_

_I'm gonna leave my body_   
_(moving up to higher ground)_   
_I'm gonna lose my mind_   
_(History keeps pulling me down)_

Leave my Body-Florence and the Machine

Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.-Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

Shisui was an idiot.

It actually came as a surprise. You couldn’t _be_ and idiot and a missing-nin. Not for long, anyway, and Shisui had been at this long enough for it to be long. He was _not_ an idiot. Most of the time. Maybe once or twice before, but ever since he’d started dealing in information, he’d been _careful_. Paranoidly careful in a way his mother would approve of. She was probably going to come and haunt him now, and she would have every right to. 

Shisui was a _moron_.

He had _no_ excuses, except that this was his playground, and no one else should have gotten the better of him here. He’d grown up on this forsaken island. His mother had sequestered him here, as the isolation kept them safe from discovery. It didn’t mean he was _one of them_. None of the villagers treated him as part of their circle, though he wasn’t rejected as an outsider might be. They were frightened of the legacy his mother had left behind, convinced he was half god or demon or something. Being a ninja was close enough, but if they knew he was a _ninja_ , someone would report something, and Shisui didn’t want _anyone_ chasing him. He ran because he loved it; not because someone was after him.

He should have _known_ better then to get involved with Konoha-nin. He’d been too old for ages to believe his mother’s tales about demons to explain his red eyes. Almost everyone knew what the Sharingan was, and Shisui had it. He didn’t know what his mother had been thinking, sleeping with an Uchiha, but it had been before she defected. Maybe it was the reason she had defected. He didn’t know. She’d never told him. He’d been good with the other informants. He’d been careful and paranoid and never let them remember his face or let them remember his eyes.

So what had happened here? He’d gotten confident—cocky. He’d felt too much like a king on his home turf instead of the thief he was, and he was paying for it.

It wasn’t _just_ that. He’d wanted. He’d wanted something he couldn’t _have_. He didn’t stay here all the time. He came and went as he pleased and no one commented on his coming and going. He played the villagers, but never more than they could stand—as his mother has said. He kept them on his side, mostly. He was seeing now he was hitting the end of his welcome. Maybe he’d been pushing too far, too hard, but he could _make_ them like him. He could soothe the memory of the loss to something worth a chuckle, and he wanted to _know_ how far he could take that.

When the merchants came for dye or fish (or even poisons), those were the ones he played with a vengeance. Sometimes he got himself conscripted onto a ship, robbed them blind, then flickered to another island. Sailors never came looking for him—they were superstitious by nature, and he left them fearful of ghosts and demons.

When he’d seen Inari, whose name was not _really_ Inari but Itachi, he’d seen a target. He knew he was excepting Konoha-nin, but Itachi looked all of fourteen or thirteen. Konoha was soft, reluctant to push their children in times of peace, so the Kiriga lesson went, and Shisui had been waiting for _ANBU_. Itachi, with his over conscious actions, his properness, his gentle mannerisms and thoughts, could not be a ninja. He had to be what he said, because there was no way someone like _Inari_ could be one of Konoha’s masked goons.

 

Sure, he’d set the boy up as a mark. He couldn’t resist. No merchants had come for six months counting, and that was part of why Shisui was wearing out his welcome. It was harder to get off this rock with no ships coming in, and he was getting bored. The town was stewing with unhappiness.  Fights broke out easily, and people were starting to give him that suspicious look--that look that said maybe they didn’t actually want him around here, causing trouble. He was going to have to find a new home. That had all been going on before, and _that_ was why he’d taken the job. He’d give the island that had raised him one last gift and be on his way.

 

But Inari—Itachi. The little tide pool snit who’d out played Shisui at his own game.

 

He really should have known to be more careful about Konoha, because they had the Uchiha. If anyone would send a child against him, the Uchiha would. That was what Itachi was. A child. Nothing more.

 

Well, and the reason Shisui needed to get out of _town now_ , but he was in luck. The town was _alive_ this morning. A merchant ship had come in. Of course, it was a pirate ship in reality, but they wanted water and food and had some goods that could be sold around. The captain was also female, and as Shisui had seen her stalking around, he’d known how he would get out of this place. He doubted that he would come back when he left. It made him sad, but he decided it was far past time to let go of his mother’s shadow and make his own darkness to sleep safely in. 

He was going to miss feeling safe.

And it was _all_ Inari’s fault. Shisui’s too, but he’d never been this stupid before. It had to be the kid’s fault. Shisui’d played many people as he’d planned to play Inari. It would be simple, especially after watching Inari’s reaction and talking to Kaika. Inari was the right type for this kind of con. Normally, Shisui was string the target along for a while, maybe a week or two, then, the seduction would reach its peak and after the night of satisfaction, Shisui would make off with whatever wealth he could get off of the target and vanish. After spending more time with Inari, who had definitely been taking the bait, Shisui had decided to draw it out. Have some fun, because most of the people he played this way were older than he was and really no fun at all. He’d been certain he could juggle the Konoha-nin and Inari.

He’d been stupid. Blinded by some romantic notion—the possibility of fooling someone who wasn’t just out for sex. For being the one in _control_ , instead of constantly fighting to keep a balance between submission and guiding his target into the con. So _maybe_ he’d like Inari, had a touch of infatuation for the dark eyed boy with long black hair and a mind only fractions slower than Shisui’s. Maybe he’d been too involved. Maybe he’d let some kind of desire for something blind him to the _obvious_ fact that Inari _had_ to be one of the Konoha-nin.

Stupid, Stupid. Stupid _. Stupid_ **. _Stupid_**.

But it had all gone so _well_ , and Inari had been reacting like he was interested, teasing and more relaxed than he was with his partner. Shisui could see now he’d been played. Inari had obviously known that Shisui was the informant, and that was why he’d gone after Shisui with those smiles and looks. That delighted little smirk Itachi had worn at the cove proved it. Shisui’s shock had told him all he needed to know. Shisui had been played at his own game. Totally blindsided.

AND, Inari now knew Shisui’s real name, so many of his real habits. It wasn’t safe to deal with these people anymore. He’d wiped Itachi’s memories of the meeting in the cove, faded the memories of their previous meetings, and left. He was getting out of town with this ship, and he would avoid Inari and Kaika until then.  Itachi. Avoid _Itachi_ , because that was the kid’s name. Uchiha Itachi. Damn him to a watery death where the sharks would eat him alive.

Shisui could _still_ taste the shape and shade Itachi’s mind in his mouth. That was part of what had convinced him to drag out the charade. Itachi’s mind was unique. It was different and so intriguing as Shisui had gently brushed it at their first meeting, pressing a little harder with each contact to taste Itachi’s reactions and state of mind. Itachi had been easily distracted from the mind touch by Shisui’s physical touches and proximity, which had given Shisui plenty of time to get a feel for Itachi’s mind. Sometimes he met people whom he hated just because of the taste and shape of their mind. Itachi had been the opposite. He’d never met anyone like that, and he’d let curiosity, an intoxicating taste, blind him.

He was _such_ a moron. Idiot. Doofus, pea-brained scallop. He still couldn’t believe how idiotic he had been about all of this.

Shisui had already scoped out the taverns and decided where the female captain could stay without people asking too many questions. He’d bumped into her earlier in the morning and impressed on her that he was _interesting_ and she could some _here_ to meet him, though she didn’t know it yet. She just had the suggestion in her mind, and she would think it her own thought when evening rolled around. Maybe he’d been a little rougher than usual, but he was also unusually rattled by his failure with Inari. He was off his game, but he just needed a successful game to get his confidence back. He’d put this Konoha business behind him, the Uchiha threat, and sail the open seas.

Or something like that. Whatever.  As long as he got away from Inari/Itachi and the Uchiha’s greedy fingers.

For now he was skulking in a room at the inn the lady captain would visit, not certain he really wanted to test the forgetfulness he’d thrown on Inari by running into him so soon. He arranged the room into a nonsensical order for the night. He knew, technically, that such arranging would in no way help his genjutsu, but he always felt it did. Colors and shapes were suggestive in and of themselves, and when applied with a bit of genjutsu, they smoothed the unnatural effects out nicely. He’d decided that was what he’d use on her tonight—a complex one that would unravel with time, but long after he was gone.

Shisui flopped onto the bed, crossing his arms. He really hated this. Not the genjutsu and deception. He was _used_ to that. It was his nature, and he couldn’t change that. What he hated was slinking around and sleeping with people he felt no attraction for. It used to be exciting. Yeah, sex was all great until you had to sleep with someone older than your grandfather, or until someone had a blood fetish, or until the bruises, the bitten lips, the swollen tongue. Certainly sometimes it was great carnal manipulation, mutually satisfying and Shisui’s means got furthered, but it hardly seemed worth the times he wanted to slip the throat of the man/woman/whatever with greedy grabbing hands that left him as soon as _their_ need was served. He could never tell _how_ he would feel fucking them when he cased them. Until then, it was a job and he didn’t let emotions factor in (another reason he’d gone wrong with Inari). Maybe Inari would have been the fucker he finally strangled.

The thought was disturbingly erotic. Shisui closed his eyes, and he could see the shocked look on Inari’s face as Shisui’s hands closed around his neck. Maybe as Shisui spat Inari’s _real_ name at him. Itachi’s hands would scramble, clamp down on Shisui’s hands, try to wrench them off. His eyes would go red, all the time rocking to the rhythm…

Shisui heard the window rattle. He opened his eyes and saw Inari perched in the window sill, dressed in black with his hair down. His eyes were red, wide open, consuming his face. Shisui managed to get himself half up off the bed before Itachi hit hm. His deceptively thin wrists clamped down over Shisui’s, digging hard into the skin. His shins crossed Shisui’s just below the knee, bone grating hard against bone.

Shisui had been pinned like this before. He yanked his wrists, thrashing his hips to free his legs, but Itachi’s hold only tightened. Fine. Shisui activated his own Sharingan, and he could _see_ the chakra Itachi was using to pin him, sticking himself to Shisui’s skin and to the bed. No wonder his touch was crackling electric across Shisui’s skin. Shisui yanked again, only succeeding in hurting himself, disturbing Itachi only so much that a shock of black hair slid over his shoulder and brushed over Shisui’s face.

Then, Shisui would have to genjutsu Itachi again. With his eyes, he didn’t need signs, and Itachi was looking straight into them. Easy kid stuff. Shisui gathered the chakra he needed in an instant, but Itachi’s genjutsu slammed into him first, entering through his ears and Itachi spoke one word—the word that all people were weak to, the word that all people automatically opened to.

“Shisui.”

The power of a name, Shisui thought ruefully, and the world went black.

~

Shisui found nothing odd about waking up aching on a strange, rumpled bed. Happened often enough. Sex was a common need people had, and it was one of the easiest ways to trick people into trusting you. It was also fantastic for setting genjutsu. At some point during sex, most people let down their guard. Even civilian’s had a rudimentary defense against genjutsu, but if you could get them to lower even that, you could make them believe something so well personality itself could be altered.

Still, he couldn’t remember who he’d been screwing with this time. The pirate captain? No, the last face he remembered was a pale one. Cat like, large eyes, a cascade of dark hair.

Red eyes. Sharingan.

_Fishguts_.

Shisui wrenched himself upright and found Inari— _Itachi_ sitting before him, arms crossed, face dark, black hair still down but smoothed from its earlier disarray. His body was tense, lips twisted into a displeased shape Shisui hadn’t seen on the other’s face before.

Not that he cared. Shisui felt plenty displeased himself. And bruised—his head felt bruised.

“You will _never_ put a genjutsu on me again, without my consent.” Itachi’s first words were cold and crisp, but, somehow, they made him seem ever younger. It wasn’t _fear_ that drove them, but affront and injury. Shisui ignored the frozen glare and sat up more fully, rubbing his wrists and touching his feet to the floor. He pressed them into the floorboards, feeling far safer this way.

“You broke it _already_? Sea foam, I’m losing my touch,” Shisui cast Itachi the ruefully charming grin he’d used on Inari a hundred times before. Itachi’s face only hardened.

“You had no reason to do that.” Now _that_ was offense on a personal level. Itachi’s stance screamed defensiveness again, when he’d been all open and receptive yesterday afternoon, even after Shisui had jabbed his sore points. Itachi, Uchiha or not, was still a child, the easiest of marks. More than that…

“I had every reason to, _Itachi_.” Yes, the boy twitched a bit as his name was said. Ha. They were on equal ground now, though Itachi was looking more and more offended by the moment. Good.

“ _You_ agreed to be an informant for us,” Itachi didn’t stand, but he wanted to.

“I agreed to sell some information to Konoha. I sold it to you, job’s done.” Shisui shrugged. “Getting an _Uchiha_ sicced on me wasn’t part of the deal.”

Now there was almost outrage in the child’s face, maybe hurt, because Shisui wasn’t that bad at reading people. Maybe he’d horrible screwed up reading Itachi’s true intent, but he couldn’t mistake the shape of a mind and the unspoken needs eyes gave voice to. “You agreed to help us--”

“For proper compensation. You think _you’re_ proper compensation?” Shisui wrinkled his nose with distaste. “They could have at least sent something better than a minnow. I’m just insulted.” Play words with multiple meanings, that was the key. Never quite let them know what you meant so they had to fill in the blanks by themselves. It worked wonders, and he could see Itachi’s mind flickering between possibilities, trying to decide which he wanted to settle on.

Shisui did, just a tad, feel mean for what he was doing. Itachi was looking younger by the moment, causing a soft panic. Two years wasn’t much, but thirteen was pushing it. Any younger and…no, he had to be older than he looked. This was all still part of the game.

“Then what do you want as compensation?” Itachi asked calmly, stilling his parts in order, and turning calm red eyes on Shisui. He blinked at they were a placid, almost stupid grey as he waited for Shisui to speak.

Shisui smiled, checking the shift in Itachi’s expression. He could see that so much better with his Sharingan activated. “I’ve already got all the compensation I need.” Itachi’s expression became tinged with confusion, maybe hope, then understanding as Shisui cracked a fist into the boy’s solar plexus, driving all the air in his lungs _out_.

“I’m free.”

As Itachi crumpled to the floor, Shisui smacked the window open and vanished into the morning. Time for plan B.

~

Shisui stole a small fishing boat, leaving five gutted fish on the dock where it had sat and rowed to his side of the island. He beached his boat on the black sand and hurried to his little cave to gather all his things. He didn’t have much, actually. He kept only the necessities, his mother’s few keepsakes, and his own few baubles. He liked shiny things.

His little cave, the one he’d grown up in, could only be accessed by a thin little catwalk that was often drenched. Chakra made it easy to get to, but Shisui ran up the path now with no chakra. He dropped into a crouch and slithered up into the opening hollow of the cave. He realized now that he would have to widen the hole if he grew anymore. Then he realized he wouldn’t have to, because he was leaving. Maybe this was a sign from something. Maybe it was just an unconnected occurrence.

He took a moment to remember his first days here, when his mother had told him to _stay here_ while she went out to earn money. In the early days, when she could leave him alone no longer than a night or so, he now knew she’d been working one of the brothels. Back then, the little port had been more prosperous, enough so she might have also paid for their bread by stealing and gambling. He’d gotten his quickness from his mother, and she said that was all it took to be a cheat. Quickness and a smile that made everything right—she’d had both, and she’d gifted him with them.

By three she was leaving him alone for days at a time. He never stayed where he should, instead crawling from the cave to run wild on the beaches. Those excursions were the first times he’d been seen by the villagers. A young child, running naked and wild in the sea foam that no one had ever seen had started rumor upon rumor. It didn’t help he could swim like a fish from the young age and never knew any fear. He’d been adopted by a visiting priest once, a long sorry tale, but one in which he’d learned to read. Those old scrolls were some of the non-essentials he tucked into his packs along with two smooth rocks, a necklace, and some carved fish bones.

Shisui shook off the memories. Focus. He didn’t need them to survive. He wasn’t worried about Itachi coming after him. The boy would, of course, but no one had ever found this place, and no one ever would. Shisui intended to seal the entrance when he left.  He wouldn’t have anyone grubbing around in the things he’d left behind.

He took the time to clean his little shrines, setting them up as if for the winter, though he wouldn’t ever be back. He left incense burning for his mother, and decided he wouldn’t make her a new shrine. He was going to shake this all off and start completely fresh. The wind off the water blew strong today—a good omen for a good start even if the sky was overcast. He had enough food for a week, enough water for five days. His mother had taught him a jutsu for getting pure water from salt water, so he wasn’t worried.

He’d been born from a trickster and the sea tides, after all.

All the same, he left an offering of raw fish for Tsusanoo at his shrine before he headed back for his boat with his bundles. The sea was a little rough today, but Shisui had never had a problem with sea sickness. As he walked across the black sand to his stolen boat, he felt lighter. His fear of leaving his only home faded with each step.

Now he realized something.

He’d never really been free. He’d been living under his mother’s shadows, his mother’s rules, and her habits. He’d been caged by his memories, thoughts, and his mother’s reputation on this island. Sure the cage had helped him survive, but it had trapped him. As much as he loved her, he hadn’t actually been free, because he wasn’t her. Now, as he carefully packed his things into the boat and prepared to set out, he knew he’d be free. He’d start his own life where he made his own rules and live by his own code. He’d just have to stay away from Konoha and Uchiha.

He could even leave the continent he knew—find a big merchant ship and go somewhere he’d never even heard of before. He could have a _real_ adventure. He didn’t even have to be a ninja anymore if he didn’t want to be. What else would he be? He didn’t know, but he could find out. Surely there was something besides a ninja in him. He did know, whatever he became, he could be great. The feeling of importance swelled in him, and this, he knew, was the most important day of his life. A defining day.

A day for freedom, as the surf tossed his little boat from side to side and rocked his stomach with excitement. He’d shake of the shadows of his ninja life, and he would walk in the sunshine where people would see his name, his actions, and remember them.

He wasn’t far from the shore when he saw someone on the beach. He couldn’t make out who, just that they wore a cloak, and the wind was blowing it around. Shisui raised his hand and waved jauntily, too filled with excitement to care who it was. It didn’t matter. He was free now. The water was under him, and no one could catch him now.

The figure on the beach vanished, and Itachi appeared in Shisui’s boat, rocking it from side to side violently. Itachi stumbled, stupid land legs couldn’t balance. Shisui used that time to flip his oar around and slam it at Itachi’s head. Itachi dropped down into the bed of the boat, and smashed his foot into one of Shisui’s ankles. Shisui fell forward, catching the oar across the sides of the boat instead of falling on Itachi. Itachi kneed Shisui in the gut, kicked him in the thigh. Shisui shoved himself up on the oar and drove his foot towards Itachi’s gut. Itachi caught Shisui’s foot on his shin with a wince.

Itachi shoved himself down the spine of the boat, kicking his shin up and burying his other foot in Shisui’s hip with enough forced to flip Shisui over the bow of the boat. His back crashed into the bow, and Shisui shoved himself off into the water. The cold sea swallowed him eagerly, buffeting him from side to side. The waves made the water murky, but Shisui told himself he didn’t need to see. Salt water stung his eyes, the little cuts on his body, but it didn’t matter. In the water, he was best. He was king, ruler, god.

Shisui spun himself around and shoved him feet off the hull of the boat, hoping it rocked Itachi enough to knock him down. Idiot. Shisui dug deeper into the water, letting the waves push and tug him to where he wanted to be. He judged himself to be in the right place, and came surging up. He grabbed the edge of the boat, rocking it heavily his way. Itachi, in the process of turning, stumbled back, arms flailing for balance. As Itachi tipped back and fell, Shisui stuck his knee to the side of the boat with chakra and shoved himself up high enough to grab Itachi around the throat.

Itachi’s hand latched onto Shisui’s arm, the other hand shove a kunai deep into Shisui’s arm—a panicked stab, because it went deep enough to puncture Itachi’s flesh as well. Shisui arced back, twisting and throwing them both into the water so Itachi hit face first. The cold shock of hitting the water stunned Itachi for only a moment, but Shisui tightened his hold on Itachi’s neck and locked his legs around the boy’s waist. With his free hand he stabbed a needle into Itachi’s neck.

Itachi’s body jerked at the pain, spasming in basic desire to escape _pain_. His struggles were wholly ineffective for a moment, still panicked and desperate as he realized he couldn’t see, everything was getting darker and colder as the sank down into the depths, buffeted from side to side and spun by the waves so you really couldn’t tell which way was up or down.

Shisui started to feel a little panic as his lungs started to burn, and he had no idea which way was up either. He only tightened his hold on Itachi and grabbed one of the boy’s flailing hands as they became more concerted efforts to get free. Itachi drove his free elbow into Shisui’s side again and again, but the poison was working. His blows were weak. Painful, but Shisui wasn’t going to die from them. The problem came when Itachi managed to grab one of Shisui’s fingers in his fist, pulling the joint to the breaking point. Shisui tightened his hold on Itachi’s neck and managed to grab a handful of the boy’s long hair. With chakra, he yanked the hair sharply, causing Itachi to loosen his grip just enough for Shisui to free his hand.

Shisui felt Itachi going limp down. He shoved himself away from the boy, kicking him hard with both feet in the lower back. Shisui then shot to the surface, lungs burning with desperation. Up. _UP_. **_UP_.**

Shisui broke the surface a few yards from his boat, which was being dragged back towards the shore. He clambered out on top of water, shaking off the aches of not enough oxygen. Walking on stormy water was nigh impossible, but he jumped waves and sank into trenches like most would walk uneven ground. The sea was his playground, and these waters knew his name. His mother had birthed him in these waters, nursed him on its fish.

As he headed back for his boat, shivering from the wind that whipped his wet clothes to his body, he did feel bad for Itachi. Shisui had killed before, dozens of times because it was his job or to protect himself. He found it nothing to be proud of, but not something you could really avoid. Killing should be done in secret, like the shameful act it was. Maybe that was why the idea of being something other than a ninja intrigued him. He’d like to show off his deeds and skills in the light for everyone to see.

Not leave them rotting in the water.

Shisui promised himself he’d set up a shrine for Itachi, though it did little to assuage the sudden, sharp guilt he felt as he remembered the boy going limp in his hold. It wasn’t _Shisui’s_  fault the Uchiha had sent a child after him, or that Itachi had been brash enough to challenge Shisui on the open sea. Really, what could have been expected? Shisui placated himself with that pathetic logic as he stepped into his boat and sat down.

He cursed as he found one of the oars had been lost, and the boat had taken on water. Shisui grumbled and located the bailing bucket, glancing back to the area Itachi had gone under. Nothing. By the time he’d decided the boat was bailed enough and decided how he was going to pilot his boat with one oar, he looked back and thought he saw something bobbing in the waves. The corpse?

Probably, Shisui decided as he started moving away from the shore. Itachi would wash up, and no one would think it had been an accident, because the idiot had stabbed himself. The needle mark on his hairline wouldn’t be noticed, likely, but now everyone would think Shisui had killed the brat, wouldn’t they? The Uchiha would be after his skin. Damn them all to hell, he didn’t want to be mixed up in this clanner business. Shisui shivered—from the wind knifing through his wet clothes and nothing else.

Grumbling under his breath, Shisui turned his boat and started for the corpse. He’d have to waste time properly positioning it somewhere on the island it would look like and accident, maybe stick around for a while? He could kill Kaika as well. It shouldn’t be too hard if the man wasn’t expecting him. Or he could take the body with him and deal with it later. Shisui pondered which way would be best, and decided he was most likely screwed any way he went. _Why_ had Itachi come after him? It would have been so much simpler if the boy had just stayed _away_.

Cursing children with affection complexes, Shisui managed to get himself close enough to jab the corpse with his oar. It rolled over, open eyes staring, blood slipping sluggishly from the neck wound—a wound that stretched wide on the kid’s neck. Had he actually killed himself? Shisui hadn’t thought the wound was that severe. As he jabbed the corpse again, he realized it bobbed oddly in the water, it felt odd through the oar and—

Shisui swung around with the oar, but Itachi had learned. From his position on top of the water, a good yard away, he blew a giant fireball at Shisui. Shisui swore and bailed off into the water, shoving himself deeper under the surface as the ball of light shot by above him. Shisui swam to the left and came up to find Itachi back in the boat, looking right at the place Shisui had surfaced. Shisui prepared to duck back down, and then saw that Itachi had already cast a jutsu, one that flowed smoothly through his arms and…

…into the water.

Shisui kicked back. The waves didn’t allow ice to form, but that would have been a blessing. You could stand on ice. Now Shisui, already shivering, got a wave of icy water doused over him that dunked him under the surface of the water. The cold water caused him to gasp, and he forced his way above the water, coughing and choking just in time to meet another icy wave of water.

Shisui ground his teeth shut and tried to swim away, only to find the cold patch of water seemed to follow him, and he could swear it was getting colder. He came up and found himself no farther from the boat then he had been. Shisui cursed himself, the water, Itachi, and got dumped back under. He tried to climb on top of the water, but as he gained a small hold, he saw the light and crackle of a fireball coming at him, and had to duck back under the frigid water. After five minutes of floundering in it, pushed under water by each fireball, he was beginning to think he would actually drown this time. His body was wracked with shivers that made chakra manipulation almost impossible. Yes, he decided, this would be the ignoble end of Tsuyu Shisui.

Shisui had given up swimming and started floating as much as he could, treading water, and steadily losing feeling in his limbs. He noticed the little boat was coming towards him now, slowly, clumsily, and in what seemed an hour’s time, Itachi had navigated the boat close enough it almost bashed Shisui in the head. Shisui tried to swim away, but Itachi leaned down and grabbed Shisui, dunking him under water. Evidently the boy wanted to do it with his own hands. Greedy little bastard.

Shisui came up retching this time, and Itachi bashed him at least a dozen times against the side of the boat before he had Shisui half inside it. The rest of Shisui was flopped almost on top of his first half, and it took him several long moments to flounder into a decent huddle. Shisui glared up at the boy above him, aware enough to know he was feeling foggy and muzzy, but not much better than that.

Itachi hunched shivering, blue lipped with a daze expression. The poison. The water had diluted it, but the kid was still poisoned and as wet as Shisui. The wind was picking up, the sea getting rougher. Shisui wondered where this storm had blown in from. No one had predicted it. Hell, he’d missed it, but he’d been so distracted by everything it wasn’t a wonder.

Shisui laughed. “Couldn’t be happy dying on your own, could you? You had to kill me too.”

“You tried to drown me f-first,” Itachi countered as he fumbled with the one oar and spun them in a circle.

Shisui croaked and almost bit off his tongue as a hard shivers wracked his shoulders forward. He fumbled at his shirt, trying to get if off. Wet clothes made you lose body heat faster, but his stupid fingers wouldn’t respond with anything more than weak clawing motions. “ _You_ came after me.”

“You ran away,” Itachi countered through chattering teeth.

"Oh, yeah, Like I’m gonna stick around and talk to an _Uchiha_. No way, sea’ll boil before that.” He’d like to be dipped in boiling water right now.

“What’s so bad about an Uchiha?” Finally, it felt like Itachi had them turned in the right direction. He had them moving in any case. Shisui couldn’t do much about the direction.

Shisui choked. “Clanners. Never trust a clanner. Never let ‘em know you’ve got the eye.” His mother had told him that. If Mist knew, they would hunt him down and kill him. If the Uchiha knew, they would hunt him down and capture him. They’d keep him and chain him up like a dog. He wouldn’t be anyone’s bitch. Not him. Not Tsuyu Shisui. He was the fastest there was—faster than the wind. The tide. Anything. He would never be tied down.

He thought he heard Itachi mutter something about Mist prejudices, but it didn’t matter. They were going to die out here. They would both freeze, or Itachi would die from the poison. The Uchiha would know Shisui had killed their dog, and no one would come after him. No reason to run after a corpse, was there? Shisui chuckled, but it felt more like a gurgle.

He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them when he heard the dull slap of the oar hitting the water. Shisui blinked up and found Itachi hunched over, body shuddering in almost convulsions. He gagged, and Shisui felt a heavy sense of pride his poison would kill the boy before the cold did. Itachi would be _his_ kill.

“And to think, I actually kind of like you.” Should he use past tense?  How _odd_ you could like someone after trying so hard to kill them, and they had just killed you. Even after they had been so stupid that it had gotten you both killed. “It would have been fun.”

Itachi vomited into the bottom of the boat, gagged then vomited again. Shisui grimaced at smell, then wondered if he could get closer, because it would be warm. He’d get warm, and maybe he’d stop falling asleep. He didn’t really want to die. He liked life well enough, didn’t he? He did.

Itachi hit the bottom of the boat with a thump, choking. Probably on his own vomit. What a way to go. Shisui smiled to himself. Dying in vomit and water. Frozen and poisoned. What a pair they made.

When Shisui opened his eyes again, he heard someone singing in a deep baritone, and Itachi had gone still. Shisui stared until his eyes grew too heavy, and the singing too loud. He forced a smile onto his stiff face. Death came for the best of men.

And he stooped to gather up the worst as well.


	4. Stumbling Hands

_God love your soul and your aching bones_   
_Take a breath, take a step, meet me down below_   
_Everyone's the same_   
_our fingers to our toes_   
_We just can't get it right_   
_But we're on the road_   
  
_Whenever your world starts crashing down_   
_That's when you find me._

All Fall Down~One Republic

I never trusted good-looking boys. -Frances McDormand

* * *

 

Itachi kept trying to teach Sasuke how to swim without getting in the water with him.

The water of the river was deep green shot with golden light from the sun. Sasuke floundered in the shallows under Itachi’s direction, often dunking himself under water and coming up spluttering. He kept asking for Itachi to get _in_ the water, but Itachi didn’t want to. There was something in the water, and while it would leave Sasuke alone, it would grab Itachi and drag him down. Itachi called encouragements as Sasuke went under again.

Sasuke stayed down to ten seconds. Fifteen. Itachi stood up from the bank and, with only a moment’s hesitation, waded into the water. It was frigid, though Sasuke had assured him that the water had been warm and the sun burned down from the sky with a summer fury. Itachi reached under where his brother had gone down, searching for his brother’s shirt. Itachi’s hand brushed against fabric, and he grabbed Sasuke’s shirt. He pulled Sasuke up and found himself faced with an older boy, wild hair plastered to his face, feral grin breaking his face in half. He grabbed Itachi around the neck and shoved him down, cracking his head wide open on the water.

_We’re going to die together, let’s enjoy the trip_.

Itachi opened his eyes and found he was shivering so hard he’d knocked his head on the side of the boat.  Shisui lay across from him, making feeble movements with his hands, his eyes fluttering open and closed as his mouth moved. Itachi thought he could make out his own name in the motions. Shisui was probably cursing him. Itachi smiled at the thought and told himself it was time to get up and get them back to shore. He’d fall asleep again if he stayed still—the cold was doing that. And the chakra exhaustion, _and_ the poison. What had Shisui used? Itachi needed to get them to shore before they died.

Itachi blinked, but forgot to open his eyes.

Someone was singing an old lullaby. It had to be his father because his mother had only sung happier songs to him.  This was a song about battle and death, the kind men and children growing up in wars learned to hum in the trenches. Itachi remembered this one. It was about fire and suffocation and the hand of a comrade clasped in your own as it went limp and cold. It wasn’t his father’s voice. No, this voice was clearer, not half muttered to lull a child to sleep. This voice—he half knew it. He felt it familiar.

“Maa, maa, what have we here?” Kakashi grabbed the side of the boat, pulling his own closer. The jarring motioned shook Itachi from his daze. He wondered how long he’d been lying here listening to some voice in his head sing. Shisui didn’t react now, huddled in a shivering pile in the bow. The shivers weren’t as hard as they had been, and Shisui’s lips were blue tinged. Itachi started to pull himself to his feet. It was chakra exhaustion more than the poison or cold, he still told himself. His body ached like he had a fever, and his vision swam.

Kakashi leaned over and hooked an arm around Itachi’s middle, pulling him easily over into his own boat.  Itachi sat unsteadily in the low seat and was given a flask and a chakra pill. Itachi stuck the chakra pill under his tongue, shuddering as the wind gusted and knifed through his wet clothes and plastered them to his skin. They wicked away the heat in an instant. The flask proved to have some kind of strong liquor in it. Itachi almost choked on the bitter taste, but managed to swallow it. It burned and then burst into fire in his stomach, which made him feel bother better and sick. Itachi took another very small sip as Kakashi leaned over and looked at Shisui.

“Are you injured?” Kakashi asked as he reached over to check Shisui’s pulse. Shisui’s only response was a small twitch and opening of his eyes.

“No—yes, a small puncture wound. The weapon was poisoned, but the water diluted it.” Itachi reached up and touched the slightly swollen lump on his neck. It felt hot to the touch.

Still using one hand to keep the boats together, Kakashi leaned forward and pushed Itachi’s hair up to get a better look at the wound. Even through his gloves, Itachi could feel the heat of his hands. It took great will not to lean _into_ that warmth. “Looks like you’re having a nice reaction to it. Let’s hope he can tell us what he used,” Kakashi mused, leaning back and looking at Shisui. A harsh gust of wind shoved down on them, and Itachi shuddered, folding over as the cold stabbed at his joints.

“First, we should get both of you out of your wet clothes,” Kakashi decided, his voice calm and unhurried. He motioned for Itachi to steady the boats, then leaned over and dragged Shisui into their boat. Shisui landed in the bottom with a thump that shook the boat, only shifting to pull himself into a tighter ball. Kakashi grabbed three little packs from Shisui’s boat and set them in their own.

“You were right. He was running.” No surprise, just the same calm confirmation he always seemed to use. Itachi didn’t know if that meant he expected Itachi to be right, or if Itachi was right about things Kakashi felt were a matter of common sense. Kakashi offered Itachi his own cloak, then motioned to Shisui. “See if he has dry clothes.”

Itachi nodded and dragged one of the packs to him. It didn’t feel like clothes, so he tried another.  This one had blankets on top and clothes underneath. Itachi slid down into the belly of the boat, sitting on the spine as he looked at Shisui. His own fingers sluggish, Itachi began peeling Shisui’s clothes from him. Kakashi looked Shisui’s boat over then calmly knocked a hole in the bottom of the boat. It began to sink slowly, rocking deeper and deeper beneath the waves. Itachi wished Kakashi hadn’t done that. It seemed like a bad omen.

Shisui’s body was covered in scars. Some were old enough Itachi could barely see them; some were young enough to still be red or pink. The wound on his right arm was already scabbing, but the removal of his clothes set it flowing again. Itachi’s strike had gone straight through Shisui’s arm. Itachi wouldn’t be surprised if there was bone damage involved. He hadn’t meant for that to happen.

Shisui stirred as Itachi worked, eyes slipping open as his head lolled around a bit. His eyes widened, but Itachi wasn’t sure what Shisui saw. He grabbed for Itachi’s hands, finger cold and clumsy-weak but hindering. It was hard to strip someone when his muscles were locked up and quivering. Itachi reached up to rub at his own burning neck. It tingled and spiked pain under the pressure, weeping blood and fluid down his neck. The cold air was making it harder to breathe. Kakashi tipped his head to the side as he paused in rowing to the shore.

“Ask him what poison he used,” Kakashi suggested. Itachi blinked, fumbling with the words. He caught Shisui’s groping hands and folded them back against the boy’s chest. He honestly had no idea how lucid Shisui was.

“Shisui, what was on the senbon?” Itachi asked as a sudden, prickling wave of heat washed over him. Itachi took a short breath and his lungs felt stiff. No, no, it wasn’t the cold that made it so hard to breathe. It was the poison. His throat was closing up.

Shisui blinked heavily as Itachi shook him, and the string of words he let out meant nothing to Itachi. They did chill him to the core. Itachi hadn’t brought anything but a mild all-purpose antidote with him. Would Kakashi have more? Itachi took a deep breath and felt the rasp in his throat—the constriction of his lungs.

“Shisui…Shisui you need to tell me,” Itachi leaned forward and pitched his tone to coaxing. Shisui opened his eyes, gave Itachi something between a leer and a smile, but no words. He needed _words_. Itachi shook Shisui again, but he didn’t get a response.

“Use a genjustu.” Itachi gave Kakashi a wide eyed look, and the man pulled against the oars. Where _had_ he learned to handle such a small boat on a rough sea? Kakashi cleared his throat. “Use a genjutsu to find the name of the poison.”

Itachi nodded and looked back down at Shisui. The man’s eyes were closed. Itachi dragged up the last dregs of his chakra and formed the signs slowly. He laced the lines of genjutsu over his tongue and in the tips of his fingers. He leaned forward over Shisui’s body, feeling the unsteady drain of chakra from a body that had almost none to give.

_“Shisui_.” Itachi whispered the name laced with power and almost fell on top of Shisui. “What did you _use_?” Itachi could feel Shisui fight. He pressed the genjutsu snare deeper, felt it catch. He only needed one word. One word…

But he felt Shisui fighting him. He felt the screaming indignity of so personal an invasion, and Itachi almost recoiled on principle. He paused and licked his lips, feeling his own burning body and pressed the sensation onto Shisui. He shared the feeling of suffocation, the choked feeling of his throat.

_What did you use_?

Shisui struggled harder, kicking and mentally screaming as Itachi pressed with his feeble strength and tried to compel the man. Shisui bucked under the pressure, and Itachi felt the waves of scorn coming off him.

_Please don’t let me die, Shisui_.

Itachi didn’t know if he were speaking these things aloud now, or just thinking them into Shisui’s mind. All the same, he felt the give of Shisui’s will under that plea. He plunged down into something deep and dark that tasted like salt water taffy and sounded like waves crashing against rock.

“Ocean belladonna…” Itachi looked up at Kakashi, wobbly weak and suddenly sick. He could hardly hold his head up, and the chakra pill accidently slipped from under his tongue and fell from his mouth.  It left a sticky red trail over Shisui’s cheek. “Does that…does that mean anything?” He would have to try again if it didn’t. He could do it again. He was the Uchiha genius. Shisui shivered beneath him, still only half clothed. Itachi should finish dressing him.

“Is it a poison?” Itachi asked as Kakashi rummaged in a pouch. Kakashi’s lips moved to answer, but Itachi never got to hear the words.

\----

The rocking of the boat was making him sick. Itachi peeled his eyes open and found himself snuggly bundled up with his back pressed to someone else’s back. He heard someone singing in a deep baritone, and the rough kiss of the waves against the hull of the boat. Itachi pulled the blanket from his head and looked up at Kakashi. The man paused in his singing.

“Ah, just in time.” The man’s visible eye smiled. “It would be easiest to decide what to do with our friend before we reach the shore.”

Their friend? Shisui, yes. Itachi sorted through his thoughts as Kakashi watched, feeling groggy. His mouth tasted disgusting, probably from whatever antidote Kakashi had forced on him. Hopefully, he hadn’t puked again. If he had, then Kakashi had cleaned it up and Itachi wasn’t ready for that kind of humiliation. Itachi swallowed and decided against sitting up. He was still shivering, as was Shisui. Itachi wondered if Shisui was awake, and if he could hear what they were saying. If he was, he gave no indication.

“What do you mean?” Itachi almost bit his tongue off trying not to shiver.

“We need to decide if it’s more beneficial to the mission to keep the informant around, or…” Kakashi casually shrugged his shoulders. “He has already told you a good deal.”

“I’m sure there’s more he could tell me.” And killing him seemed a very sorry repayment. No wonder Shisui had such a low opinion of them. “Now that I know who he is, there are other ways he could be useful. He knows the island much better than we do.” He’d wanted to know if there were any secret accesses to the castle, any sea caves they could use. Shisui would know.

“That’s true, but…” Kakashi paused to pull on the oars. “He has also proved himself to be combative even when approached on his own terms, dishonest about his terms, and he did try to kill you.” Kakashi looked more speculative than offended. Itachi felt the slight ache of the wound on his neck now that he was warmer. It felt like Kakashi had already dressed it.

“He--” Itachi’s teeth jarred together. “He wasn’t expecting it to be me.” That much was clear, but Itachi didn’t have the why. “He knew I was Uchiha.  He doesn’t trust clanners.”

“No one from Mist does, but the Mist clans were always especially ruthless,” Kakashi mused. The man looked completely unconcerned with all of this, which made Itachi feel far more nervous about defending Shisui. Kakashi’s blasé nature was harder to read and counter then the normal stern disapproval Itachi encountered in his clan. He didn’t want to defend Shisui _too_ vigorously, but he didn’t want Kakashi to kill him either.

“So he won’t work with you.” Itachi stiffened at Kakashi’s words.

“No, no I think he will. I can convince him to.” He _knew_ Shisui, right? He should be able to figure out what the man wanted. In fact, he thought he knew what Shisui wanted. He just had to figure out how to make Shisui see it was both what he wanted and that Itachi could give it to him.

“He could easily reveal our purpose to the villagers, or Shishio,” Kakashi observed.

“He wouldn’t.” The words came out with a solid conviction Itachi had no right to. How well could he really know a man that had just tried to drown him? Shisui had been playing a con all this time. Itachi could not know him at all. The doubt crept in like creeper vines, wiggling under his confidence with sharp pangs of self-derision. He was so young, and his experiences were so narrow. How could he guess what someone else thought?

“That is a big risk to take for someone you’ve only known a week.” Kakashi’s visible eye seemed to focus a bit more on Itachi.  Itachi sat up a little more. The wind over the sides of the boat seemed to freeze his hair to his head.

“If he wanted to sabotage our mission, he wouldn’t do it by revealing us that way. He’d find some other way to undercut us.” Shisui _was_ a ninja. Itachi could see that now. As much as he rebelled against the secrecy and the drive to be unnoticed, he embodied it. “I don’t think exposing us was his aim. He simply wanted to escape.  He only came after me when I pursued him.”

“But he refuses to work with us. Would letting him run free be wise?” Kakashi asked, and Itachi felt as if he were on trial here.  The question was simple: did the benefits outweigh the risks? Itachi lowered his head out of the wind and took the time to think the question over.

“He knows the island. He grew up here, and we can use that…” Itachi pulled the blankets tighter around him and felt the _thump_ of Shisui’s heart against his back. The sudden, fierce feeling of possession that washed over him alarmed him, but gave his words hard conviction. “I can handle him. I know what he wants, and I can give it to him. He will help us. He just needs to be brought to heel.”

Kakashi didn’t speak for a while, his eyes wandering from the ocean to Itachi, languid darkness that told Itachi _nothing_ of what the man thought. The conviction drained away, and a hundred tiny anxieties took its place, along with a shivering weakness that stole everything from him. He’d hit his limits, pushed past them, and felt he’d come up short.

Itachi heard the sound of another boat, and of men shouting. Kakashi’s eye crinkled. “Ah, our helpful fisher friends.” Itachi struggled up and saw that they had come around the island, probably following a current, and were now in sight of a group of fishermen. Even with the darkness of the sky, it seemed too late in the morning for them to be out fishing.

“Our story will be we were out scouting, and you saw your friend take a tumble into the water. You jumped in to save him, against my advice, and were almost drowned by the rough water before I could get to you.” Kakashi raised a hand and waved to the boats. “Does that fit the character you’ve been cultivating?”

Itachi nodded weakly and lowered himself down. He closed his eyes and pressed his back to Shisui’s, feeling the shiver shake of the cold through the other. Kakashi’s querulous voice rose to explain to the boats bobbing around them what hadn’t happened, and Itachi found he didn’t care about the lies. He just wanted to sleep, and the steady beat of Shisui’s heart was an irresistible lull.

\----

Itachi allowed himself a half hour of rest, and then he forced himself out of bed. His head swam, and all his muscles ached like he’d been beaten. Itachi became aware of Kakashi watching him like a cat as Itachi wobbled to his feet and almost pitched forward onto his face.

“The bathroom is in the other direction, Itachi-kun.” Kakashi had his mask over his face, muffling the tones of his voice and making it that much harder to read the man.

“There’s something I want to check,” Itachi explained. He sat down at the table, shaking like a fever patient and thinly ill. “Before Shisui wakes up.” The name tasted tacky on his tongue, or maybe it was the fever. Or the poison residue, since he didn’t really have a fever.

Kakashi gave Itachi a level look that Itachi had no problems interpreting. Itachi sat up straighter, which made the muscles of his back scream. He wanted to be sick. He felt all color drain from his face, but he didn’t waver.

“I think that would be…ill advised.” Amazingly, Itachi could see the word “stupid” slotted into that pause. Kakashi continued. “Given Shisui will be up and running in another hour or two, perhaps I could check this?” The raised eyebrow said _we’re partners_.The tone said Itachi was likely to fall on his face as soon as he broke out of a staggering shamble and he would never get anywhere ever with a two hour start on Shisui. Itachi felt smaller and more useless than ever, but Kakashi’s suggestion sent a spike of alarm through him.

“No.” Almost a snap, and Kakashi sat a little straighter as well. Itachi couldn’t explain the sudden sense of violation that came over him at the thought of Kakashi doing what Itachi had planned. He wanted to see where Shisui lived and figure out all he could before he had to confront the man again. He _knew_ Shisui had played him before, and he didn’t want to fall victim again to Shisui’s silver tongue and agile hands.  Reason said that Kakashi could do just as good a job as Itachi could on this, perhaps even better, but Itachi’s stomach turned at the thought. He knew Kakashi’s intrusion wouldn’t be forgiven. Did he think Shisui would forgive _him_? No, but he wanted to see for his own eyes what kind of man Shisui was. Itachi breath rasped.

Kakashi shifted, not nervously, but just shifted and was suddenly standing. “Your throat’s getting tight again, isn’t it, Itachi?” No honorific, and the look the man gave him was flat. Now that Kakashi mentioned it, Itachi could feel the tight, panicked flutter in his chest for what it was. It made his thoughts hectic at the edges. Kakashi rattled around in their packs as Itachi tried to breathe normally and failed. He felt his heartbeat picking up.

“It wouldn’t be a good idea for you to go,” Itachi managed to speak normally, if softly.

“He lives in a sea cave on the east side of the island.” Kakashi calmly measured something out of a small glass bottle and into a syringe. When he turned to confront Itachi’s startled look, his visible eye smiled. “Or that was the best guess of the fisherman who told me what trouble we were bringing back to them.” If Itachi were well, he could make the trip in a half hour. Like this…he didn’t know if he could walk down the stairs.

Kakashi could make it, and they needed that information.

Or did they?

Itachi allowed himself to frown as Kakashi approached him. Itachi automatically rolled up his sleeve and allowed Kakashi to push the needle under his skin. He’d forgotten to ask what it was. More antitoxin? Something else? It could even be a sedative so Kakashi could do what he wanted. The injection site burned, and the soft sunlight seemed to dance on the floor.

Shisui had run because Itachi was an Uchiha. Shisui had been willing to talk to Inari and even trust the boy with his secret. Every time before, Shisui had removed the memories of those who tried to force anything out of him, or tried too hard to bend him to their will. He didn’t want to be trapped. He already felt he’d walked into Itachi’s trap, one Itachi had not set at all. He’d only be more suspicious of every other attempt to persuade him to help them.

Shisui didn’t need to be persuaded. He needed to know, first and foremost, he could trust Itachi. That was what they needed. Trust. Real trust, like the kind that existed between mission partners.

The idea struck him as so backwards from what he’d always been taught that he laughed. He thought his head might split open, but breaking into Shisui’s home while he was recovering from Itachi’s attack would only make him more distrustful. He needed to see that Itachi wasn’t just doing this for himself, but was trying to help Shisui as well. The more he thought of it, the more certain Itachi became that this would be the only way to get Shisui to work with them.

But he could genjutsu the man, and there were dozens of other ways he could get Shisui’s assistance. Itachi had been taught them all by his clan and his other teachers. He didn’t actually need trust—the real kind, but it seemed the only acceptable option. The reason behind that fractured out into Itachi’s mind, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his aching head as he looked _up_ at Kakashi.

“What did you give me?”

“More antitoxin. Our informant got lucky. Your body is having a hard time fighting off his poison.” Because Itachi was small, low enough on chakra to drag his immune system down, and still metabolized poisons as a child did. Which meant, Itachi mused, he could crash suddenly. Did Kakashi worry about that? The man didn’t look worried. He didn’t really look anything. What was he thinking?

Itachi felt himself sway a bit. “Perhaps it is time to lie back down?” Kakashi’s tone phrased it as a question, but when Itachi nodded and stood, then almost fell, Kakashi steadied him calmly. He trailed Itachi back to bed, where Itachi found himself shaking harder and feeling even more light headed.

As Itachi let himself lower down onto the bed, Kakashi spoke. “Should I go canvas the contact’s cave?”

Itachi looked at the man and wondered what he was testing now. Did he want to see if Itachi could be logical while his mind crumbled under the pressure of thought? Did he want to see if Itachi trusted him? Did he simply want to know what Itachi thought to be the best way to proceed? Did he already know the best way? Could this entire Shisui situation be a set-up? Would they laugh at him over drinks as adults were wont to do, with Shisui’s laughing mouth and quick fingers? Itachi wondered if Shisui would lean in close as he always did with Itachi, and something burned in his gut.

“No.” Itachi fumbled the covers up over his shoulders. Cold. So cold. He felt guilty for trying to freeze Shisui. “It’s not the way to do it.” Itachi didn’t want to explain his trust theory to Kakashi. It felt naive and risky, but it felt _right_ hoarded up in his chest. If he laid it out for Kakashi, he would see how stupid it was, and how he should never trust anyone. You couldn’t trust a ninja, because ninja were never quite real. They were always playing some part, and you couldn’t blame them.  You couldn’t _trust_ them either, not to act in your best interest, or truly share your motivations or views.

“The antitoxin is harsh,” Kakashi added, and Itachi felt the blankets tug tighter around him. The man pulled one of the chairs from around the table to the bedside and sat down, whipping his orange book from nowhere. “But you shouldn’t need another dose.”

Itachi wondered how harsh this was supposed to be, that Kakashi watched him from behind those pages. It seemed suddenly too real, too intimate, and Itachi wanted to hide. He pulled his knees to his chest and closed his eyes, the fragile feeling of failure hovering over him. How had he let himself get into this position? Why did he allow anyone to see him so weak?

But he hadn’t found that suppressed scorn in Kakashi’s eyes, just a matter-of-fact interest and concern.  Itachi could still feel his father’s chastisement. An Uchiha must always be strong, especially when surrounded by outsiders. Itachi was their genius, and he was supposed to be the epitome of what an Uchiha _was_.

He’d never felt less like someone carrying on the fierce, bloody legacy of his clan, and the pain in his body made it hard to care.

\----

Itachi woke to feel someone brushing his hair back from his neck. He expected it was Kakashi checking the wound. The man proved to be just as odd in his wound care as anything else, never asking Itachi’s permission before he began poking and prodding things. Itachi let his eyes stay closed until he smelled sea brine and something else. He _felt_ the presence leaning over him, and he knew it wasn’t Kakashi.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Shisui had a hand clamped over Itachi’s mouth. Itachi still felt too weak to even activate his Sharingan. He’d been feverish all night, and now he felt cold and clammy, his hair disgustingly still clumped with salt and snarled from the fight.

Shisui stared at him intently, turning Itachi’s head and prodding the wound he had left there. Itachi felt something seep out of the puncture, and tried to pull away from Shisui’s touch. It hurt, not badly, but the ache that told him it wasn’t healing the way that it should. Shisui tightened his grip on Itachi’s face, hand retreating from the wound to rummage in a pouch at his belt. Itachi tried to open his mouth to bite Shisui’s hand, but the hand was so spare and expertly placed, Itachi couldn’t get his teeth near enough to bite.

Itachi reached up with a weak hand, tugging at Shisui’s wrist with more insistence then force. Shisui’s eyes flashed to Itachi’s face, and then he pressed something sharp into the swollen wound on Itachi’s neck. Mouth open, Itachi made an almost unconscious noise of pain, and he swore he felt Shisui’s hand falter. Itachi tugged harder at Shisui’s hand and felt the buzz of chakra sticking Shisui’s hand over his face.

Itachi responded with one of the only options left to him. He worked his mouth and throat enough to get a mouthful of saliva and then smeared it all over Shisui’s hand with his tongue. Shisui’s hand tasted like salt and other things Itachi couldn’t name, mainly disgusting, like eating salty garbage. Shisui’s hold didn’t lessen, but he made an awful grimace. Now he pressed something cloth to Itachi’s neck, and Itachi could feel it soaking up something warm.

Itachi twisted his body, still unable to move his head, and Shisui planted a knee on Itachi’s chest, this one buzzing with chakra as well. Itachi decided Shisui wasn’t here to kill him, not when he removed the cloth then smeared something over Itachi’s neck that burned like fire and smelled terrible. Itachi dug his fingernails into Shisui’s hand and wrist, struggling with the effectiveness of a five year-old.

Then he caught a tiny, tiny bit of Shisui’s palm between his teeth, and snapped his teeth down as hard as he could.

“Squidbits!” Shisui hissed and yanked his hand back, grabbing and handful of Itachi’s hair rather than risk getting bitten again. _That_ wouldn’t do. Itachi threw and elbow up at Shisui, which was easily blocked, he tried to roll himself out from under Shisui’s knee, which didn’t work. He kneed Shisui in the hip, got his hand grabbed. The very muted, pathetically one sided struggle only went on for three minutes, but it ended with Itachi’s heart pounding, hardly able to breathe as he found himself neatly and expertly pinned by Shisui.

Itachi realized Kakashi must not be in the room, but why the man had left Itachi alone while he was in the state was bewildering. Obviously Itachi couldn’t fight anyone off, much less Shisui, and he was now about to pass out.

“Are you _done_?” Shisui hissed, leaning closer to keep his voice low. Itachi thought of biting Shisui’s lips—those were tender, right?—and then decided he’d only miss and look more a fool. It didn’t seem worth it either.  “Floppin’ around more’n a landed fish, yeh brat.” Shisui grumbled, grabbed another fistful of Itachi’s hair to turn his head.

Itachi rapped a symbolic elbow against Shisui’s arm. “Stop grabbing my hair.” The words were weak and breathless. Itachi could see in Shisui’s eyes that the boy was getting ready to _yank_ just because Itachi had told him to stop. Itachi was _used_ to dealing with bullies. He just hadn’t thought Shisui to be one.

But anyone would bully if they felt themselves betrayed, now wouldn’t they?

Shisui finally just let go with an eye roll to declare Itachi inordinately demanding. Then he slid his fingers along Itachi’s hairline to the wound. There he rubbed his fingers, working whatever burning salve Shisui had placed there into the skin and the cut Shisui had made. Itachi closed his eyes to the pain and tried to decide why Shisui was here. Remorse? Itachi had already cancelled the debt of attempted murder by almost killing Shisui. They were ninja. Such things shouldn’t matter between them.

As Shisui worked, the wound became numb, but Itachi could still feel the rasp of Shisui’s calloused and scarred fingers circling over and over his skin. The dizziness was passing, as well as the tightness in his chest. Shisui pressed one hand over Itachi’s chest, feeling the slowing heartbeat. The fingers stilled, now cupping the curve of his neck. Itachi felt the depression of the pillow by his head, then the heavy weight of a forehead on his own. He felt the tickle of Shisui’s eyelashes on his face and wondered why as he felt and smelled Shisui’s hot breath, heavy with some medicinal scent and maybe seaweed.

Itachi moved, suddenly aware of how Shisui hunched over him: the clasp of Shisui’s knees on his hips, the elbow in the pillow by his head, the heavy weight of Shisui’s forehead on his own. He should feel smothered. He didn’t like being touched, and only tolerated Sasuke’s clinging because Sasuke was Sasuke, his baby brother and turning that affection away meant hurting his feelings. He should feel cornered and trapped as the man who’d tried to kill him knelt over him like this.

Instead he felt safe.

Shisui stiffened and yanked away from Itachi. Itachi opened his eyes, but Shisui already perched on the window sill. He glanced back at the door as Itachi heard footsteps coming up the hall. Shisui’s face twisted—anger, dislike, annoyance—and then he was gone, window closed and locked behind him.

Kakashi opened the door, carrying a tray of food. Given he’d piled it with soups and plain breads, Itachi would guess the food had been procured for him. Itachi shifted himself up slowly, inching into a comfortable position. Kakashi toed the door shut behind him and set the tray in Itachi’s lap as the boy stopped moving.

“The morning gossip is Shisui had a row with the apothecary right before dawn and left without paying and possibly put a curse on him.” Kakashi stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “And the cook’s daughter seems to be pregnant.” Kakashi took his normal seat in the windowsill. If he saw the smear of ointment on Itachi’s neck or smelled it, as he must, he gave no indication.

“The merchants in town are causing quite a stir. They almost burned down Susano’s Cup last night. Evidently people don’t take kindly to outsiders here,” Kakashi continued to talk as Itachi picked through the food, eating what he could keep down. Itachi sifted through the information, knowing that anyone listening would think Kakashi a harmless gossip. The man used that as part of his façade, along with his affability. Truthfully, Itachi didn’t find it that different from the man’s normal persona, except for the cowardice, but he had begun to think Kakashi was always acting some part.

But they all were. Everyone pulled a mask over their trueself for whatever reason. Ninja just prided themselves on their dishonesty. Itachi gingerly ate the rice, and the most important thing he gleaned from Kakashi was what he already knew. Shisui had left.

\---

Itachi took another day to fully recover. He ate, slept, and ate more. The festering wound on his neck, that had been what Shisui had lanced, resolved itself slowly. Kakashi speculated that the poison, while intended to kill, had a component that caused the wound to fester if the subject didn’t die.

The wound would probably leave a scar. Itachi made certain he scrubbed it thoroughly. Since he took two hours to get his hair sorted, he had plenty of time for that, and more time to think. Kakashi had handed the problem of their contact completely into Itachi’s hands. This, Itachi _knew_ , was a test. Having the agent who’d already fought with your contact continue to deal with him probably wasn’t the approved method. Why did Kakashi let Itachi continue to muddle around? It couldn’t be because Kakashi thought Itachi would do a good job.

No, this was a test, and one he couldn’t fail.

Two days after Shisui had tried to kill him, Itachi prepared to leave the room. Kakashi passed him a map with a small red circle on it without a word. Itachi fingered the paper and bowed before heading out. The circle was the best guess as to where Shisui’s home base was. Itachi made his slow way out of the village, assuring those who asked he was fine, just fine. As long as he hid his shaking hands, everyone would believe him.


	5. Wicked Words

_This is not the way into my heart, into my head_  
 _Into my brain, into none of the above_  
 _This is just my way of unleashing the feelings deep inside of me_  
 _This spark of black that I seem to love_  
  
 _We can get a little crazy just for fun, just for fun_  
 _Don't even try to hold it back_  
 _Just let go_  
 _Tie me up and take me over till you're done_  
 _Till I'm done  
_ Flesh-Simon Curtis

Illusion is the first of all pleasures.-Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

“Heyla, pretty boy.”

Shsiui turned and looked at the woman behind him. Her skin was coffee-cream dark, scarred and tattooed intricately. Despite the cold weather, she wore no sleeves, the tight shirt showing that along with muscles, she had curves enough to satisfy any man’s desires. The scoop of that shirt filled with the swell of her breasts. Her slick dark hair was cropped close to her skull, and her dark eyes drank him in like a delicacy.

“Good morning, Captain.” Find the smile to match her own. Find it, drag it out, easy as breathing. Or it should have been. His lips felt wooden and cold.

“Heard you took a swim in the ocean yesterday.” The woman jerked her chin up, mocking laughter in her eyes as she stepped closer. “Heard you had to get yourself _rescued_.”

Shisui could smell her. Sea, the oil for her weapon, a musky scent, and the deeper, undeniably woman scent wafted off of her. More than that, he could taste her mind as she so boldly spoke to him, touching his arm now. He’d felt her mind before. He’d known she was looking for a companion to warm her bed and fill her bored hours. He’d thought he wouldn’t mind it. She was nice enough looking, not cruel, experienced enough he could learn from her. She wouldn’t deny him pleasure.

“Do that often, pretty boy? Are you the kind who needs someone to watch you, keep you out of trouble?” Her voice rasped out, husky rough and something he should have found delightful. With the aftertaste of Itachi’s mind in his mouth, the smell of the sick child stuffed in his nostrils, her overtures fell flat and made his stomach sick. Shisui felt drained and empty.

It infuriated him. He was a master trickster. He could fool anyone, no matter how he felt. It didn’t matter how he felt anyway. What mattered was what he needed to do to get where he needed to go, gather what he needed to gather. His mother had taught him how to survive like that and shove all his feelings down into a place no one but him knew they existed. That was how you made it in this life. The only way.

“Everyone can have a bad day.” Shisui smiled, but he had no energy behind it. He still felt chilled from the cold water, even though the apothecary had warmed his thoroughly by the fire all night.

“Have bad days often?” Her wide, white smile answered his own. Shisui looked at her. He blinked, eyes red, then tugged loose the string of genjutsu he’d placed on her before. She blinked, eyes suddenly clouded. Shisui leaned a little closer. Close enough she could feel his warmth in the chill morning air.  
“No, not often,” Shisui waved his hand. “Just having an unlucky week—waiting for the tide’s to turn and carry me out again.”

“Lady Luck’s left you stranded, pretty boy?” She stepped closer, tipping her head and her smile into something Shisui knew all too well. He’d worn it often enough, and he should be thrilled this woman thought she could play him as he planned to play her. Tide’s turning, he’d just been played, and it made him hesitate. He remembered Itachi’s little smile, so very convincing, and balked.

The woman pause for a moment, then she drew her hand up his chilled arm. “Come play me a round of cards tonight—we’ll find your luck again.”

Shisui fumbled a moment, and then smiled back. “We’ll see.” This woman could be his only way off the cursed island now. His only way to get away from the Konoha-nin. So what if she only wanted a bed warmer? Shisui could use a rest.

~

Shisui had fallen asleep at the very entrance of his house. He woke up aching stiff, cold, with no idea where he was. He rolled over and looked at the ceiling while things filtered back in. Itachi. Almost drowning. Poison. Lady Captain.

Fish shit.

Shisui dragged himself from the ground and crawled deeper into his cave. He had a little fire pit and a chimney but no wood. Shisui hissed and swore at himself, then just dragged his blankets from a pack and pulled them around his shaking shoulders. He had no fresh food either, but he did have water and travel rations. Didn’t matter. Was better than gnawing on roots and stalks to wait out whatever storm had locked him in his cave.

Shisui huddled in on himself and thought. He could still _think_ at least. Or he thought he could. Maybe his mind was tricking him into thinking he was still planning with his usual flair when he was actually stumbling around like an idiot for everyone to see. Didn’t matter. He was leaving. He couldn’t _stay_. Not here, not with Itachi and whatever his partner’s name was hanging around and messing with his business. _Honestly_ , why did the brat have to chase him. He’d gotten the insider’s look he wanted without paying. Why chase Shisui down?

_Idiot_ , because Shisui had been playing the kid. That was why. The real question was how long the Kaika would let Itachi wallow around after Shisui. Surely he would rein the kid in and let him know that it was time to cut ties before he drowned their mission. They had what they’d wanted from him—all he’d agreed to. He wasn’t giving them anymore! He didn’t owe them anything. Still, it didn’t seem he could count on them leaving him alone. He needed to lay low, and then get off with the pirates. The Konoha-nin wouldn’t be able to get him then without breaking cover. Maybe he should just hide out on the boat now until they left. He’d have to go in tonight and make sure his Lady Captain stayed interested.

Shisui’s stomach turned, but he ignored it. He’d gotten into trouble doing what he wanted and ignoring common sense. He’d get out of this by doing what he’d always done. He wouldn’t get trapped, he wouldn’t be blinded anymore. Shisui took a deep breath and pulled out some smoked fish to snack on. He’d see how late it was, clean himself up, then go shake things up with the Lady Captain. Itachi wouldn’t be up and about yet, and Kaika would probably be sticking close to the inn to make sure Itachi didn’t die or something.

Itachi _had_ looked close to that this morning. He’d looked small and weak before, but never frail. This morning he’d looked frail and weak, like someone on their deathbed. Shisui didn’t deal with sick people often, and he never got sick himself often. Poisoned, maybe, but never really sick-sick. Itachi had looked sick and poisoned all rolled into one, with his skin pale enough to see the veins through it, and his hair matted and snarled. Maybe he would die, and Shisui wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.

Shisui almost choked on his hard tack. He’d have the bloody Uchiha after him, though. Better to get out of town quick…but he should wait and see if Itachi actually would kick it, just so he could know if he should expect murderous Uchiha to descend on him. Only for that. Shisui glanced out the small entrance of his home and decided it was time to go. He didn’t want to leave his captain waiting.

~

He’d made himself presentable, meaning he’d used what he knew of the woman’s mind to decide what she’d find desirable. She wanted someone to dominate. She wanted an exotic pet to cosset and have fawn over her. Shisui had done that often enough—more when he was younger. His looks were wild, not demure, and they grew stronger with each passing year. He could make anyone think he had a touch of the supernatural around him, but convincing them he was a fawning lackey took work. Mostly work on his knees, but work was work.

You did what you _had to_.

Moanna, the lady captain, out drank her men. She flirted like Shisui did—dishonest, only out for what she wanted. Her body was toned and hard, only the barest of feminine plush. Wasn’t so say she didn’t have spectacular breasts. She did, and as she tried to ‘teach’ Shisui to play cards, she kept them pressed against his back and arm, whispering in his ear all the tricks and rules of the game, voice just as smoky as the atmosphere.

It didn’t mean anything. Shisui knew the game—the cards and the bigger game she played. He critiqued her performance as heavy handed in his mind. She wanted a fuck, and he was the most interesting person here for her to fuck. Simple as that. Shisui wanted something more than a one night fling. He wanted to hook her, hook her _hard_ , so she would keep him safe on her little pirate ship for as long as he wanted. If she lost interest in him while they were still at sea, she might just toss him overboard. Moanna’s mind did not sound or even suggest a sentimental bend. No, she would be ruthless and practical after she’d had her fill of him., especially if she’d let slip and secrets during pillow talk He needed to make sure that would happen when he wanted it to happen.

His original plan had been a genjutsu. His always plan in making people do what he wanted. He would let her “seduce” him, and in the act, he would place a genjutsu on her. Given taste, sight, hearing, and touch, Shisui could create a genjutsu nigh impossible to break. He knew a lot of ninja relied only on visual triggers, because hallucinations were the easiest of genjutsu, but they were cheap. Shisui could break those in an instant, and that made him paranoid others could as well, especially the long lasting ones.

Sex and genjutsu went hand in hand for him. The mind was never more vulnerable to delusions at that point, even without genjutsu. Slot a genjutsu into someone’s brain after mind blowing sex, and the victim would never notice. Hell, they might even thank you depending on the genjutsu. Shisui even had a genjutsu that mimicked an orgasm, or intensified one. It only worked really well on men, since female orgasms were different and he had yet to properly figure their triggers all out. Maybe he should try perfecting that with his female captain. He toyed with the idea of letting the woman just _think_ they’d had sex, but stacking a genjutsu on a genjutsu would be dangerous.

Maybe she was beautiful. Shisui toyed with the idea. She reminded him of his mother a bit, with her wild smile and he disregard for everyone but herself. She swore and laughed and bullied with men with ease, pushing everyone into their place— _below her_. She was his normal sort of target, because people so self-assured could easily be fooled, much as people with low esteem could be led to easily. Fooling the confident had always been more fun, Shisui told himself.  He told himself he needed a good game under his belt after the sour taste of Itachi.

So he let her drag him upstairs and touch him, pretending not to know what he was doing, letting her shove him around, mock him, whatever she pleased. When he failed to preform, she just laughed at him, said it was a long night, and said she had other ways for him to please her.

When he crawled out of the bed in the morning, Shisui felt the need to scrub his body with a steel wired brush. His jaw ached, his scalp throbbed from abuse. He felt angry disgust for himself and for her. He didn’t wait for her to wake up. He went out the window, locking it from the inside again with a clone. Let her think he’d magicked himself from the room. Let her think she was toying with something other than a green boy, which was how she’d treated him last night. He was sure she’d find the idea intriguing.

Shisui moved slowly, tired from everything and furious. He started being angry at himself for getting into this mess, then he became angry at _Itachi_ for pushing him this far. He wasn’t a ninja, he was a kid—a child. Shisui had forgotten to swing by the Dolphin’s Spout and see if Itachi had died yet. The kid would die, he decided despite the weird flip of his gut. He’d smother from the poison or burn up with his fever. Shisui had watched someone die from poison in close quarters. It wasn’t pretty. He still had nightmares about it.

Shisui headed across the black rocks, ignoring the path. He knew his way better than that. He also knew no one would follow him, since the path was easier to walk. It didn’t stop a soft tread from following him, one he hadn’t noticed until he had been off the path for a while. Shisui slid down the rock he’d paused on and stopped out of sight. It didn’t take long for his pursuer to catch up.

Itachi’s eyes were fever bright, his cheeks flushed with hot color. His face looked far more spare then it had been before. For a moment, Shisui thought he was facing a ghost, but Itachi moved like a normal child as he descended, and Shisui caught his scent on the wind. His heart started beating again.

“Shisui.” Itachi looked rather pleased with himself. Brat.

“Come back to do a better job killing me?” Shisui asked, shifting his body posture to hostile. Itachi paused, suddenly wary. Shisui let his Sharingan bleed to life. He didn’t have a reason to hide it, and Itachi _reacted_ too it, drawing back a fraction and becoming more guarded. Shisui could see Itachi’s pulse jumping in his neck, and he knew he could take the kid out easily right now.

Maybe he had this all wrong. Maybe Kaika wanted him to kill Itachi. Why else would he let a _child_ chase after someone who had tried to kill him?

“I didn’t try to kill you,” Itachi protested, calm but obviously a bit thrown.

Shisui twisted his lips, then he smiled, baring his teeth in a predatory grin as he moved towards Itachi. “Then you want me to kill you? I’m a little pressed for time, but I think I can just fit you in. What method do you prefer? I take requests.”

Itachi frowned, though it looked more like a pout. “You know you’re being unreasonable. No one has done anything to threaten you. We’re more than willing to abide by the pre-agreed terms. You’re the one who broke them.”

Shisui barked a laugh. “I gave you what I _promised_. I told you all about the town, and I never promise to give you nothing else. You’re the greedy bastard who keeps pushing and pushing and trying to get more’n your share. You know what? I don’t fancy getting screwed by clanners or Konoha-nin.”

Itachi gave Shisui a level look, then pulled something from his cloak. He offered Shisui a packet. Shisui edged a little closer waiting for the move to turn into something else, then finally took the packet. He opened it up and found the agreed to sum stashed inside. Shisui glanced warily at Itachi.

 “That isn’t what you want.”

Shisui gave the brat a sharp look, and Itachi looked back calmly. Tides and storms, but he was _tiny_ , standing there with his cheeks all but glowing in the cold. “You’re right, I want you to leave me alone.” Could he put a strong enough genjutsu on Itachi now that he was tired? He still didn’t know how Itachi had broken out of his last genjutsu. The kid must be good at _that_ , at least.

Itachi shook his head, and Shisui laughed again. “You know me so well? Then what do I want?”

“You want to be acknowledged.” When Shisui stood too shocked to rattle off a reply, Itachi forged ahead. “That’s why you took an informant mission on your home. You knew you’d have to leave soon, but you wanted to do one last thing before you left. Even if you couldn’t tell them _you_ were the one who saved them, you’d know it—but that’s not enough. You want to be known and remembered. As long as you’re a missing-nin, that’s never going to happen.”

Shisui managed a sneer. “Forever in the shadows—that’s where a ninja belongs. We’re not some fancy show piece to be gawked out. We’re killers. Killers shouldn’t be glorified and set on pedestals.”

“But you still want to be remembered. You still want someone to know who you are instead of skulking around in the shadows and making people forget your face,” Itachi pressed.

“Is that all I want? You going to give that to me? Cause it’s a real balm to my black little heart to know you’re gonna remember me.” Shisui clasped his hands over said heart, but Itachi’s expression didn’t change.

“I want you to come back to Konoha. If you continue to work with us on the mission, you’ll be---” Shisui burst into laughter, and Itachi stopped, mouth slightly open. Go to Konoha? Become a dog for the Uchiha?

“You think _I want_ to be chained to some crazy clan that sends out _babies_ to recruit missing-nin for them?” Shisui scoffed and threw his arms wide. “You think I’d give all this up: the sea, my freedom, for some land locked forest filled with red-eyed freaks? You think _that’s_ what I want?”

 

“You don’t want to be forgotten,” Itachi protested.

“By a mark, yeah—oh, I get it. You don’t want me to follow you home because of Konoha of your _clan_ , you want me to come because _you_ _want me_ to come back with you,” Shisui smiled. He slid closer. “I’m charmed, but I need a little more incentive than _you_.”

Now Itachi looked affronted, possibly hurt. The kid did a pretty good job of covering himself, but Shisui was certain he was right. “You want to drag someone back to that hell-hole who’ll actually _love you_.” Shisui reached out to touch Itachi’s face, but Itachi flinched and knocked his hand away.

“Let me give you something for free: I don’t love you. Ashes, I don’t even like you. You’re cute, but you’re too much trouble,” Shisui smiled, trying to project himself as _older_. He tried to make Itachi feel small and young, which would make him feel uncertain.

Itachi looked up at Shisui as if he did this every day, and his face hardened. No, the damn kid slid some sort of mask in place. Good or bad? Had to be good. It meant he would be offended and he wouldn’t want anything else to do with Shisui.  His eyes were red. At the sight of the Sharingan, Shisui’s heart still pounded hard and his limbs tingled with fear.

“Then why are you so guilty?” Itachi asked softly, his normal accent dropped for something smoother yet colder. This would be Itachi’s _normal_ voice, Shisui realized.  Itachi tipped his chin up, daring and so _certain_ he was right. Shisui wanted to choke him until that smug look faded.

Shisui grabbed Itachi’s chin, faster than thought, and leaned in. “Get your looks right, love. I was just wondering how loud you would have screamed when I fucked you.” Shisui felt Itachi tense and draw back, then he snaked his hand out to grab Itachi’s hair.

Itachi kicked at Shisui, trying to yank away. Shisui grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair and easily threw Itachi down. Shisui’s kick connected with a clone, throwing him off balance. Shisui felt Itachi’s hand grab in his shirt and the beginning of a pressure intended to see Shisui sprawled on the ground. Shisui whipped around and cracked his elbow on Itachi’s cheekbone, sending the boy down to the ground, stunned. Shisui jumped, driving his knee into Itachi’s gut, his hand going for the tanto in his boot. Slit the throat, easy, quick kill. Shisui saw Itachi’s eyes flash wide and his body tensed for a reaction. It didn’t matter. Shisui was faster.

A kunai bit through Shisui’s ear. He threw himself out of the way of the other projectiles—three shuriken, one of which still nicked his arm. He went back again to avoid a blow, the blur of a man coming at him with a simple, straight bladed knife. Shisui blocked with his tanto, feeling the strength behind the blow. Shisui caught Kaika’s face on the other side of the blade. Shisui felt the first tingle of electricity in his fingers and kicked back from Kaika just as the man’s knife burst into electric blue crackles that lit up Shisui’s eyes with light and the after visions of chakra.

Despite his movement, the lightning arced to Shisui’s tanto, flying up Shisui’s fingers and arm. He yelped, the tanto clattered from his hand, and Kaika was on him in a second with a knife that screeched like a dying bird flock. Shisui’s hands ripped through signs, and he threw them up as if to ward off the blow. His clone exploded with fire and water, and the smell and sensation of oil burning flesh. Kaika jerked back, blinded for a moment by the sensations. Itachi was up again, and as Shisui dove for his tanto, Itachi jumped for it as well, splitting in two. Shisui could see which was the clone. Itachi grabbed up Shisui’s tanto. Itachi’s clone lunged for Shisui. Shisui flipped himself backwards, grabbing one of Kakashi’s shuriken from the ground and throwing it at Itachi’s clone. The clone exploded, throwing Shisui back.

Shisui heard Kakashi behind him. Itachi was almost on him, but he hesitated. Only a fraction, only a second, but a hesitation. A childish weakness, Shisui decided. Shisui caught Itachi across the face with a hand in an open palmed slap, shoved him down with another open hand. Shisui felt Kaika behind him and saw Itachi’s head strike a rock, eyes flashing grey. Shisui swore and shoved up, flickering back across the island.

~

Shisui gathered fire wood and made sure no one was following him before he crawled back into his cave. _Crawled_ like he was some kind of fugitive. Maybe he _was_ , technically, but he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t skulk around like this. Maybe he should have gone crawling back to Itachi and said he’d do it, just to make the brat leave him alone. He could have just skipped out with the ship when he wanted to.

He found the thought repulsive. He’d already screwed up once trying to play Itachi. Trying again would be stupid. Shisui started his fire with a spark from his lips, and set about making a thin soup to tithe him over until he went to town and could get more food. He had _money_ for that now, something that had been in short demand for him lately. Missions didn’t pay much. Seafoam, he made more from conning people in the cities then he ever did running informant missions, and the risks were always so high.

He couldn’t resign himself to being a normal conman, though. He was _more than that_ , and he knew it. He’d never be able to iron that resentment from his act. Better to not try and just lead this twisted life where risking his life paid less than a good night of cards. Terrible life, but what had he been given? He’d been okay until his mother died, then he’d floundered. He’d only recently gotten his feet so firmly under him he could run.

He’d just outrun himself and fallen off a tall, steep cliff. It remained to be seen if he would land on the rock or in the ocean.

Still fighting the desire to go back and gut Itachi, Shisui dug through his packs and pulled out his bingo book. He’d stolen this one off someone from Kumo two months ago, so he hoped it would be current. If _I_ nari was _I_ tachi, who could Kaika be? They might not be using the same scheme, but if Itachi was such a baby, his partner would try to make it easier for him. Shisui pondered this and flipped through Konoha’s section.

Sure, Konoha had some big names, but they were also one of the biggest hidden village out there—if you could even call them a hidden village. Shisui sneered and thumbed through the names. There were a few he considered, but as he turned the page he stopped to study Hatake Kakashi, the famed Copy-nin. Plenty of shinobi sported eye injuries. Eyes were a big vulnerable spot and hard to heal. You could always take someone else’s, but people didn’t just hand out eyes like candy.

Shisui activated his Sharingan and examined the face in the photo, comparing it to Kaika. Yes, he as pretty sure that Kaika _was_ Kakashi. They even wore something of the same expression. Shisui swore more vehemently under his breath, glad he hadn’t casually tried to off Kakashi. It worried him. Why send _two_ Sharingan users, one clanner, one not, to deal with him? Would they allow Shisui to leave? Maybe they were playing soft with him, but if he pushed they’d knock him over the head and be done with him as they had just tried to. He knew he never should have treated with these people.

Shisui felt his skin begin to crawl. He got it. Send your baby after the target, lure him in, then snatch him up when he felt sorry for it. They’d gotten lucky in picking someone Shisui would find _interesting_. Or maybe any Uchiha would find Itachi interesting. Shisui shook his head. No, no. He wasn’t an Uchiha. He wasn’t anything anyone could name. They’d gotten lucky. Shisui shook his head so hard it hurt then settled himself back down. Calm. Think. He would get out of this trap, and he would never ever deal with Konoha again.

Shisui had finished off his meager stew when he remembered the drawings Itachi had done of him. Then he’d taken it as a sign the boy was completely enamored of him. Even if that was _true_ , it meant Itachi had an accurate picture of Shisui to show around. Shisui puffed up his cheeks and then blew them out.

The plan: secure his position on the ship which left in two days, keep Itachi and Kakashi at arm’s length, wipe their memories before he left, and then get out with the pictures. Perfect, but planning was the easy part. Carrying the plan out would be the hard part. Maybe impossible. Both of them were good fighters, and Itachi had proven he had excellent genjutsu skills. Shisui rubbed his torn ear and fingered the good luck charm tattoo’d behind that ear.

Luck. That was how he would do this. Pure luck.

It sounded more desperate than it was. On this island, luck counted. The whims and whiles of the gods and spirits counted here more than anywhere else. Shisui always gave his offerings and said his prayers to the fickle gods of this islands, and he was certain these Konoha-nin had never done anything of the sort. They’d never catch him.

Shisui paused as he heard a soft chiming noise. One of his traps had been triggered. Likely it was one of the crows or another sea bird. Still, he crept to a small mirror he kept, and gently fed it a trickle of chakra twisted around a ram sign. The mirror darkened and swirled. It couldn't be called true scrying. The images he got were blurry and distorted, more like shadows than an actual reflection. What Shisui could make out was some kind of small dog. The little dog vanished, and Shisui grabbed his bingo book again.

He looked at Kakashi's stats. Yes, the man had nin-dogs. So they were going to rush things, were they? That was odd, given the loose game they’d been playing up until know. Shisui gnawed on his fingers. Kakashi had no family; no clan. Could Shisui frame Itachi for this? The simplest thing would be implanting the memory, and then shattering it. It would cause Itachi to go insane, but no one would ever be able to tell if Itachi had naturally flipped out, or if it had been due to genjutsu. Itachi might even recover from the blow, given enough time and a flexible mind.

Wait, wait, why did he even have to confront Kakashi? They were trying to force him into this on their terms. Why should he let them? He wouldn’t. Shisui slid to the opening of his cave, and carefully sealed it up as he had before. He grinned. Hah, they could make what they wanted of _that_. Shisui continued to set a trap over the sealed entrance, one of acid that would trigger when someone unsealed the entrance. Did he feel bad for possibly burning Kakashi’s face beyond recognition?

No, not really. If the man was stupid enough to come after Shisui in his own den, he’d better be ready for anything. Shisui set up a gas trap as well. That would take care of the man. Shisui grabbed his meager funds and a few of his carved fish bones before moving a chest over. He slid into the small hole behind it, using his feet and chakra to slide the chest back into place. Shisui slithered up the small chute, and eventually emerged near the sea. Well, over the see, with a twenty foot drop.

Shisui shoved himself from the chute and dropped. He coated his feet and hands with chakra to keep them from shattering as he ricocheted from rock to rock, breathless as the cold air whipped up into his face. He hit the water in seconds. The shock slapped up to his bent knees. He took one moment to get the chakra balance in his feet right for the calm waters, and then he leapt into movement.

He flickered from point to point, dodging partially submerged rocks that would cripple him. He came to another cliff face and didn’t pause, rocketing up the cliff, and scrambling up on top of the rocks like a lizard. He disturbed a flock of crows, who took off screaming at him. Shisui waved cheerfully to them and set off for the village at an easy jog. He didn’t think Kakashi and Itachi would be there _yet_ , and they wouldn’t break their cover if they were. As long as he stayed around people, he would be fine.

Time to play.


	6. Broken Faces

_There's a storm on the streets, but you still don't run_  
 _Watching and waiting for the rain to come._  
 _And these words wouldn't keep you dry. . ._  
 _And I won't let you drown, when the water's pulling you in_  
 _I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting._  
 _The rain's going to follow you wherever you go._  
 _The clouds go black and the thunder rolls_  
 _And I see lightning-_  
 _I see lightning-_  
  
 _When the World surrounds you, I'll make it go away_  
 _Paint the sky with silver lining._  
 _I will try to save you, cover up the grey_  
 _With silver lining_.  
Sliver Lining-Hurts

All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.--Andre Breton

* * *

 

“I see what you mean. He’s very pleasant.”

Itachi held the icepack to his face and winced as Kakashi flashed the pen light into his eyes. “I could have handled it.”

“I believe we had an agreement. Something about you not dying,” Kakashi mused as he flashed the light again into Itachi’s eyes.

“He wouldn’t have killed me,” Itachi protested. His head pounded, but he would be okay. It wasn’t a concussion. He thought Kakashi was just indulging in sadism to burn irritation. “I need to go after him before the trail fades…”

“You still think he’s worth dealing with? Not all informants pan out.” Kakashi pulled the icepack from Itachi’s face, and prodded Itachi’s cheekbone. Itachi winced, but he didn’t think Shisui had broken it. Surely there would be a sharper, more burning pain than this. They still sat in the cold among the rocks where they’d fought Shisui. Kakashi had no injuries, and Itachi thought his were only minor. Itachi lost his response to Kakashi’s question in trying not to make any noise what Kakashi jabbed his cheek again.

“Perhaps you should give him time to cool off,” Kakashi suggested.

“I’m not going to confront him. I just want to make sure he doesn’t try to run again,” Itachi reasoned, pressing the icepack back to his face. The pain spidered across his face. Itachi wanted nothing more than to stop moving for a while, but Shisui’s words ate at him. He didn’t know if they were true, or if Shisui had just been trying for a reaction. He’d gotten one, and hopefully Itachi had kept the gutting horror off of his face. Violence he’d been faced with all his life, but not that kind of threat. Itachi probed his cheek where he’d bitten it, feeling Kakashi dissect him with a casual look.

“You have a very bad record with meeting him alone,” Kakashi allowed. It was as close to a rebuke as Itachi felt they would get. Itachi shrugged his shoulders, a tiny movement, and raised his aching head.

“Then it would stand to reason I’ve finally figured out the correct way to go about this,” Itachi offered slowly.

“Perhaps…” Kakashi rubbed his chin. Itachi knew he wouldn’t be outright forbidden or hindered, but taking irrational action would only hurt him in the long run. But Shisui _would_ help them. Itachi was sure of it. More than that, he thought Shisui needed something he wasn’t going to get skulking around here. He was an Uchiha. How could Itachi not go out of his way to help him? Itachi didn’t know if Kakashi could understand that or would care about a clanner’s obligation, so he kept his this motivation still to himself.

Itachi stood up slowly. His head didn’t throb anymore. It stayed at a manageable ache. He would be fine. Itachi bowed to Kakashi, the right angle and respect for a superior. “Would you allow me to borrow the use of one of your nin-dogs, Kakashi-san?”

“Itachi-kun, you should consider forming your own summoning contract. Ninken can be very useful.” Itachi could hear the smile in Kakashi’s voice, and he straightened to find Kakashi was already preparing the summons. Itachi bit his lip, opening a half clotted wound as he stepped back. As much as he despised asking for help, he did need it here. He couldn’t track Shisui on his own across these rocks, and he’d never find where Shisui had gone simply by looking.  He might be more receptive to the idea of dogs summons, except for one thing.

Kakashi summoned one of the larger dogs, Akino. Itachi remembered that sharply as the dog stretched and yawned, then looked up at Kakashi and wagged his tail. Itachi took another small step back. Akino looked at Itachi, then back at Kakashi.

“A chase?” Akino asked. If Itachi ever needed proof the dogs Kakashi summons were not normal, it was how human their voices sounded. It didn’t help with the spine crawling feeling the sight of them got him.

“A hunt,” Kakashi either corrected or agreed. He placed a casual hand on the dog’s head and motioned Itachi closer. “The scent of the one on that knife. Simply surveillance, no chasing or cornering.” Itachi pulled Shisui’s knife from his pocket and gingerly held it out to the dog.

Akino sniffed the blade and handle, nosing Itachi’s hand casually in the process. “Hard to smell anything over the stench of this one’s fear,” Akino complained, sneezing, but he put his nose to the ground and began to circle. Itachi felt his cheeks flush as he darted a glance at Kakashi. The man just look amused, as he had the first time Itachi had almost gone up a wall to escape the friendly attentions of Bull. Itachi _knew_ they weren’t like normal dogs, but his heart still started to pound, and his mouth still went dry at the sight of them.

“Thank you,” Itachi managed to words with good grace and another bow.

“Thank him as well,” Kakashi tipped his head at the dog, and Itachi nodded.

“I will.”

Akino gave a whine, and Itachi glanced over to see that he was crouched down, tail waving back at forth. Kakashi had already explained that meant he had the trail. Evidently going on a mission with Kakashi meant getting to know all of his team, or it had been another test to see how Itachi would use this resource. So far, Itachi had asked for this twice. Itachi gave Kakashi another nod and tucked Shisui’s naked tanto into his belt. The moment he turned to follow Akino, the dog leapt after the trail. Kakashi’s ninken followed a trail at a break neck pace, dodging boulders and jumping streams better than Itachi could.

Itachi had thought the island so _small_ , but running across it like this proved to him it wasn’t quite as small as he’d thought it was. As fast as they moved, Shisui had been faster. Itachi could remember the ache in his eyes from trying to follow Shisui’s movements. That excited Itachi. The impossible twist of Shisui’s chakra was mesmerizing, and he wasn’t to know _how_ and _see it_ again so he could understand.

Shisui was _dangerous_ , yes. Itachi had bruises and cuts to attest to that, but Shisui was a lot of other things as well. Itachi understood danger, but those other things he couldn’t name or understand half as well. They were feelings and impulses that made him both wary and excited. Those were the things that drew him, he supposed.

That, and Shisui was an Uchiha. He belonged in Konoha with the Uchiha.

Akino checked up by the coast—part of the rocky, cliff like coast where no one ever bothered with anything more than collecting bird eggs. Shisui had poured out at least an hour’s worth of folk tales and anecdotes about egg hunting over the rainy week. Crows and gulls feasted on the fish and crustaceans that had been washed up by the waves and stranded on the higher rock shelves. Akino circled and the gulls took off, but the crows just stared. Akino ignored them and  pointed his nose to a small cat walk going along the cliff face.

“He went that way. It’s a dead end, probably his den.”  Akino sat down and scratched his ear as he spoke, which didn’t change his voice at all. Itachi didn’t think he could work with summons. He liked his animals to act like animals.

“He could have just blocked the path. I want to make sure.” Itachi turned and started for the little path. He jumped a foot up the cliff face when a warm, fuzzy body pressed against him, cutting off his forward motion, chakra buzzing to keep himself up on the rock.

“Chase, not corner, not fight,” Akino bared his teeth but didn’t growl. Kakashi’s dogs had almost as much experience as him, and, as far as Itachi had been able to tell, were expressly loyal to Kakashi and his orders. It wasn’t surprising since they were dogs, just as well trained as their master.

“I just want to see,” Itachi protested, letting himself off the rock in front of Akino. “If it is his de-house, we’ll leave, as Kakashi-san wished.”

“It reeks of him, it is.” The dog insisted. “But we’ll check.” Akino turned and trotted up the cat walk, sniffing as he went. Itachi followed him slowly, picking his way between the slimy algae patches and small pools of water. He ran his hand over the rough surface of the cliff beside him until he thought Shisui might leave traps there. Itachi pulled his hand back to himself and crouched down to join Akino by the sealed end of the walk.

Akino pressed his nose to the rock and snuffed. Itachi looked the rock over with his own eyes. He could see where a jutsu had pulled the stone together. The natural mouth looked like a nice, human sized opening.

“There’s a trap on the other side. Acid, steel. This is his home,” Akino looked at Itachi, who kept his eyes on the rock. He could open it with a clone, and then send another to sweep the cave. It wouldn’t be hard. It would almost be easy.

The only thing keeping him from it was Kakashi’s words. Was he ready to disobey an order like that? Did he have to obey Kakashi’s order if the interest of the Uchiha were at risk? Itachi gnawed the inside of his lip and felt Akino looking at him.  Could he? Should he? Itachi sighed and dropped his hands. No, he couldn’t rebel against an authority figure that way, or so blatantly disrespect his comrade’s orders and thoughts.

Itachi slid out from under the little opening. He stood up and started back down the catwalk. It would be even harder to _find_ Shisui now, and he seemed even more intent on both getting away and making sure Itachi permanently stopped following him. It was too much at odds with applying a salve to Itachi’s wound when _that_ would have been the perfect time to kill him. He could have made it look perfectly natural, but he hadn’t. Itachi clung to that.

“Thank you very much for your assistance.” Itachi turned to Akino and bowed as they reached to end of the catwalk. He got the feeling the dog was distinctly bemused by him and this whole venture. Maybe Itachi should take that as a reflection of how Kakashi felt about all of this. The dog bowed, yawned enormously before it vanished in a cloud of slightly dog scented smoke. Itachi side stepped the smoke and found himself confronted with the crows again. One had hopped very close indeed, peering at the place Akino had been.

As Itachi watched, it hopped and tipped its head. Itachi remembered being told crows could recognize people’s faces. The crow held its wings half out and scolded Itachi. Itachi watched it for a moment longer, then slowly knelt down, activating his Sharingan. The crow bobbed its head and then went stiff. Itachi extended his hand, allowing the bird to hop onto it. The bird moved a little jerkily, but it didn’t startle as Itachi brushed his fingers over its smooth head. Itachi gently and carefully extended the barest thread of genjutsu into bird’s mind, gently curling it into the bird’s mind.

Compared to a human mind, the birds mind felt like glass. When offered a picture of Shisui, the bird recognized it, but the recognition wasn’t really _recognition_ as Itachi knew it. The bird attached a very different mode of facial recognition, but it knew Shisui. Itachi, pleased, laid a very simple chain genjutsu. The bird would see Shisui, and then it would fly to the Dolphin’s Spout (also known to the bird) and “tell” Itachi. Itachi sat stroking the bird’s very groggy head and wondered if he should try the entire flock. It would be more effective.

As he thought of this, the flock took a fright and lifted off the ground. Itachi’s crow stayed on his hand, waving uncertainly back and forth.

“I didn’t know you liked crows.” Kakashi’s dry monotone was a shock. Itachi jumped and his crow took off into the sky with a raucous noise of protest.

“I didn’t know they were useful.” Itachi felt a little like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He then felt offended, thinking Kakashi had come to make sure Itachi had followed his orders.

“Neither did I,” The man mused, looking up at the retreating flock. Itachi decided he felt too offended with Kakashi’s hovering to say anything about _what_ he had been doing with the crow. He knew it was childish, but he couldn’t make his mouth explain his actions.

Itachi shook off the petulant thoughts and started walking. “Akino and I thought this might be his hideaway.” Itachi didn’t know if he should call it a house or a base. Kakashi nodded as if he knew what Itachi meant, glancing over the area to fix it in his mind. Itachi had seen the way with his Sharingan. He wouldn’t forget it.

Kakashi’s foot grated on the gravel as he turned and started walking away as well. Itachi’s cheek had started throbbing now, pounding angrily against the skin. The wound on the back of his head was just a dull ache, and the one by his collarbone nothing more than an annoyance now. It had been a while since someone had been able to do him so much damage. Shisui was an _excellent_ fight, fast and cruel and unorthodox. Itachi still thought he could take Shisui, but it would be a challenge. He found that thought a little...exciting.

Kakashi cleared his throat, which only made Itachi startle a little, and started to speak. “Our employer finally made contact with us again. He’s being delayed by the rains that came through last week, but expects he will be arriving in ten days. I said that would be acceptable, and we would have the best landing sight picked.”

Yes, their mission. The one they needed Shisui for, and the entire reason Itachi was getting himself bashed up. Itachi hadn’t thought about it in the past three days. He’d been consumed with finding a way to get Shisui on his side—so consumed he’d forgotten what he even needed Shisui for. That startled him more than Kakashi’s words.  He should also be planning for how they would proceed when Shisui continued to refuse to assist them. He hadn’t been. The oversight was unforgivable and unsettling. He shouldn’t make mistakes like that.

“Have you considered a landing site?” Itachi asked slowly. Itachi knew woefully little about ships.

“I haven’t been able to bring the subject up in private conversation much,” Kakashi evaded, meaning no, he hadn’t. He probably knew only a little more than Itachi, which might prove they needed Shisui after all. Maybe _that_ was why Kakashi had agreed to needing Shisui.

“I was wondering if there might be a third landing option. Does the manor have any other entrances?” The main one was well fortified, and the smaller side entrance for deliveries was also easily barred and protected.

“Secret entrances haven’t come up in conversation either.” Kakashi rubbed his chin. “With all the illicit activity this island has done, you would think a way to get stolen goods into the manor secretly would exist.” Itachi had a feeling Shisui might know the answer to this as well. He’d bring that up next time Kakashi questioned his desire to use Shisui as an informant.

“Did you make a decision on the best way to handle the civilian populace?” Kakashi asked after a moment’s silence.

Itachi nodded. “As long as they don’t get pressed into service, I think they’ll find a new ruler agreeable. I’d suggest he set up one of the locals as the new…headman of the village, under the supervision of his own men for a while. If new trade is brought, and they don’t feel oppressed, I see no reason for them to rebel.”

“People often rebel against change, because it is change,” Kakashi seemed to be thinking out loud again. Itachi had decided the man did have a filter between his brain and mouth. He just liked to say things to watch people react. Itachi took a breath.

“Having one of their own in charge will—should help smooth things over for them. They would resent an entirely foreign rule, but Kaito doesn’t want to colonize this place. He only wants the use of their port and to have an agreeable governing body in charge. I think they will be willing to give him that.” Itachi thought of Hama and Akria, and Kosuke, and all the others he half knew from meeting them and from Shisui’s glib tongue. No, they wouldn’t bow and be servile, but they would be reasonable. They wouldn’t care much what happened outside their island, as long as they got more trade they would be happy. At least, he thought they would. He wasn’t very good with gauging people’s reactions it seemed.

Kakashi nodded as if he agreed. Itachi had a jealous moment as Kakashi very _easily_ went up and over boulders with no obvious effort. Itachi, shorter legs, had problems with the taller boulders. Kakashi made everything look effortless, which made him seem lazy, but the man couldn’t be. Itachi almost fell on his face and felt his cheeks heat.

“Did you know that if you treat someone with respect or affection, you will eventually come to feel those things for them?” Another thing about Kakashi: his conversations followed no certain path or meaning. Itachi took the excuse of almost twisting his ankle off to avoid answering while he tried to decide why Kakashi had said that. Running after a dog while using chakra had made this path much easier—or maybe Shisui had taken the best path.

“It can engender such feelings in the recipient as well, but feelings are fickle.  Not everyone can overcome hate or distrust,” Kakashi continued, doing the absent thought tone that sort of drifted from his mouth. Itachi always felt so _awkward_ when he talked. Kakashi didn’t even seem to notice he was speaking. Itachi realized that Kakashi was referring to himself and Shisui.

Itachi felt his cheeks heat, because he couldn’t deny he liked Shisui. Or liked the facade Shisui had shown him that week. He wasn’t going to mention it hadn’t really been that much acting on his part, and take the easy out Kakashi had given him. He wasn’t sure what else to do with that statement. He would say Shisui obviously hated him, except for the incident with the salve. That wasn’t hate. That was guilt, whatever else Shisui had claimed, he had guilt. He either had a better moral compass than most ninja, or he liked Itachi enough he didn’t want him to die.

How far did Kakashi think that affection extended?

“Is this often a problem when undercover?” Itachi asked hesitantly.

Kakashi nodded slowly. “Very often when an agent sleeps with a target.” Itachi definitely caught that side long look he was given and felt his cheeks go scarlet. “Which happens on missions for many reasons.”

Like information exchange and fitting in. Itachi covered his mouth with his hand and looked away for a moment. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

“Who?”

Itachi shot Kakashi an agitated look, and the man looked genuinely confused (in his vaguest way). Now Itachi felt like even more of a fool. They had reached the path now, though they were still a good distance from the town. A fog was moving in, and Itachi suspected it would drizzle later. He hoped it wouldn’t turn into more of a storm, or they would be further delayed.

Kakashi’s hand suddenly flicked, almost too fast for Itachi to catch. Seconds later he heard the sound of feet on the stone in long, loping jumps. Kakashi kept walking, and Itachi followed quickly, listening as Kakashi began to speak again, obviously in his Kaika’s voice, which was slightly more querulous than his normal voice.

“I tell you, the money is as good as gone. You’ll just have to make it up from your wages. Getting yourself killed by mooning after the thief isn’t going to help us at all,” Kakashi chastised, moving his hands in a very theatrical manner. He also had a limp. Itachi hadn’t noticed that quirk of Kaika’s before.

“I-if you hadn’t followed me, I would have gotten it back!” Itachi protested, his own voice shaking. He’d just been attacked, right? “He was going to give it to me.”

Kaika sniffed. “Before or after he--” Kakashi’s words were cut off by the sudden encirclement by masked and cloaked figures. Itachi did not flinch into Kakashi’s back in the proper defensive posture, but he could reach it in an instant if he needed to. The white masks around then were plain ovals with dark designs and slits for eyeholes. They were mist hunter-nin. Itachi changed surprise into fear, and he felt Kakashi’s shoulder clench tight.

For a long moment, there was silence. Itachi could hear the hissing breath of the one in front of him. Underneath the cloak, Itachi could just make out the hard outline of a steel and wire body. Itachi stared at the mask that bore the mark of Mist and a tortured parody of a wave in red up the left side.  Itachi could hear his own heart jumping in his chest, counter point to the waves pounding the shore not too far away. His body _screamed_ for a defensive posture, but he didn’t move. He let his eyes be frantic and jerked them from figure to figure, trying to decide what they wanted.

“A long way from the village, aren’t you?” The one in front of Kakashi spoke, voice distorted but warm and authoritative. It made Itachi think of his father’s voice. Itachi shuddered. The red wave one in front of him laughed, quiet enough a civilian probably wouldn’t have caught it. Had their cover been blown?

“We.” Kakashi did an amazing vocal trick. He sounded terrified and defiant, like these men didn’t have a _right_ to treat him like this but he was terrified anyway because they could get away with it out here. “We were trying to recapture our stolen goods.”

“Were you? Who stole them from you out here?” The lead man asked. Itachi craned his head around and peered at the man. His mask was only covered in flecks of blue paint.

Kakashi seemed to puff  himself  up with his own importance. It would have been hysterical under any other circumstances. “My _apprentice--_ ” Here Itachi received a scathing glare he cowered under. “Allowed himself to be _conned_ by the local village reprobate. He was _attempting_ to retrieve what he had lost when the ruffian commenced to beating him. Had I not arrived, I’m sure he would be dead.”

Itachi tried to sink in on himself and darted glances at all the men, trying to memorize all he could about them. One was a woman. None of them looked like green recruits. They all, except for red wave, held themselves with a cultured stillness that could be instant action. They weren’t twitchy or anxious. They were professional.

It didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to kill them both in an instant if they sensed even a hint of something out of character.

The leader turned his gazeless face towards Itachi. “You. You were one who fell for the charms of Tsuyu Shisui?”

The hair on the back of Itachi’s neck stood on end as the man said Shisui’s name. He wanted to deny it. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to say it wasn’t true. Itachi swallowed nervously as cast his eyes down to hide any defiance. Shame. He should feel _shame_. Remember how Shisui had played him. Embrace that empty, hollow, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Yes.” The word came out laden with shame and hurt. Itachi cast a glance at Kakashi, who looked disapproving in the most annoying way possible. Itachi huddled himself into a bow.

“Simple country boy—wouldn’t listen to _me_ , would you?  No, no, he was your _friend_ , wasn’t he?” Kakashi grumbled and shifted his gaze from Itachi to the ninja around them. Itachi could feel their disdain. He wanted to knock that out of them. He wanted to glare at them with _red eyes_ and make them respect him.

Stupid. That would only get him killed.

“He attacked you, not too long ago?” The leader asked.

Itachi nodded. “Yes.” Itachi reached for his cheek and managed to get tears in his eyes. “I followed him from town this morning, and when I asked him to return what he’d stolen from me he…” _I was just wondering if you’d scream when I fucked you._ “He attacked me.”

Itachi didn’t dare lie too much about what had happened. These ninja might have been snooping around a while. They knew Shisui’s _name_ , and they seemed to know something about what had happened between himself and Shisui. Well, what had happened in public, at least.

“Where were you when this happened?” The man asked. Itachi wondered if he had a genjutsu layered in his voice. Despite his fearsome appearance, his voice was melodic and calming. It didn’t sound quite human. Itachi itched to check with him Sharingan, but Kakashi’s vague arm motion distracted him.

“Over there some ways back.” Vague, but it was the right direction. How long had they been followed? From what point had they been tracked? If they had seen him with Akino, or even Kakashi catching up with him, they would know they were ninja. Itachi felt certain, even though they were on the very edges of Mist, that Konoha’s presence would not be welcomed here. On the bright side, they could eliminate the threat (or try to) if their cover was already blown. Itachi didn’t think the four would be a problem for himself and Kakashi.

“Which way did he go?” The question was directed at Itachi, and he began to truly distrust the coaxing tone the man used.

“West? I think.” Itachi cupped his cheek. “I-it happened so quickly, and he was gone so fast. I really didn’t see…”

“How fast?” The man asked.

Itachi blinked, making his eyes as large as possible. “How fast?”

“Yes, how fast was he?” The man leaned forward a fraction, body swaying in the constant wind. “Fast for a man? Faster than you? Faster than should be possible or—“ A pause here. “Faster than sight?” Itachi felt his back tense up. _No. No, you won’t have him_.

“I don’t know. He was fast…” Kakashi scoff of derision stopped Itachi’s fumbles.

“While a grievous wrong has been committed, I must ask—pardon me for that, but a scholar is every curious—why does it concern you...gentlemen? This man is a simple con artist of the most base kind, yes?” Kakashi’s head swung between the three he could see without turning. The non-answer stretched. Itachi knew his answer. They had come for the missing-nin, but had they come for his eyes or his speed. As fast as he was, Itachi didn’t think Shisui could take on _four_ hunter-nin. Not alone.

“He is a very dangerous man. Please let us know if you see him again.” The leader directed this at Itachi. Itachi nodded hard enough his cheek throbbed.

“How—how will I find you?” Itachi asked slowly.

“We will find you if we need you. Strangers are easy to find in this town.” Itachi had the impression of a wide smile being thrown at him, mocking him. The hunters shifted around them, suddenly ready to take flight. They vanished in an instant, faster than sight. Itachi could hear their feet on the rocks, but he couldn’t see them. Itachi began to slowly relax. He gave Kakashi a nervous smile.

He heard it before it hit. He had just enough time to almost react, and barely enough _not_ to react before he was crashed into.  His head cracked against the rocks, not as hard as it could have, and the weight of a body pinned him down. A thumb pressed to the wound on his cheek, and the empty red wave mask leered down at him. The thumb was shoved _hard_ into Itachi’s cheekbone, hard enough to elicit a high, strangled noise.

“What is this?” Kakashi demanded, a few moments too late, but a civilian would be slow.

“Where did you hide him?” Red wave’s voice rasped out with burning breath. Itachi writhed, frightened, in pain, and tried to push himself back through the rocks.

“I didn’t---” The thumb was shoved harder, the weight of a body behind it. Itachi felt something _give_ in his face. It wasn’t a scream, the noise he made. He didn’t have enough breath for that. His vision swam, some joints seizing, some going limp. Itachi felt the rough stroke of a gloved hand over his face. His skin crawled and he wanted to crawl away.

“Where did you hide him, pretty?” Hot breath, wicked delight laced through the words. This was a man who would kill him in a moment and enjoy it. He’d probably draw it out, but he wouldn’t hesitate to end Itachi’s life for no more reason than he wanted to. Itachi wanted to fight back. He wanted to let his eyes bleed red and give back the pain he was being given. His stomach twisted in knots, but body burned. Instead, Itachi collapsed in on himself and wailed.

“I don’t know where he is!” The noise startled him. He’d never made something like it before. He suddenly felt as if he were someone else. The pain lessened, and he almost _saw_ the terror on his face. He was a weak, simpering child, terrified beyond all thought and defiance. Itachi made a choked sobbing noise, whimpering again that he _didn’t know_.

“That’s enough.” The leader’s calm voice sounded, and Itachi felt himself back in his own body. “I said that’s _enough_.” Red wave finally pulled back, fingers lingering on Itachi’s face as he slid back. Itachi wanted nothing more than to throw a punch, but he just let himself sink into a grateful pile. He heard the departing giggle and the shudder wasn’t faked. His face was in agony. He couldn’t find any way to hold his jaw that didn’t hurt or make his cheek throb.

Kakashi had begun to rail at them in a quivering voice. He was laughed down. “You see…you see, my comrade here has an old grievance against the man we’re looking for. He can be a little…extreme in his devotion to his work.” Itachi found himself miffed this wasn’t even partially hidden threats. Maybe they thought a broken cheekbone was too subtle for the civilian mind to comprehend.

“It would be best if you don’t try to hide anything from him. Even the most _seemingly_ inconsequential details can be important,” The man spoke in a soothing voice. Itachi could see the smile in his mind as he wallowed to his feet. He liked Shisui’s darting and _biting_ persuasion better than the oil and water of this man’s voice.

“We told you everything!” Kakashi demanded. “I’ll report you! Lord Handa is a very close friend of mine!”

The leader laughed. “Report us, scholar. We are only doing our jobs. Lord Handa will understand.” One of the other laughed and, again, they were gone. Itachi stayed crouched on the ground, clutching his face as he waited to make certain they were really gone. Kakashi moved to help him stand, keeping in character, but his voice was now his own.

“They’ve gone for good, I think. At least for now,” Kakashi mused as he helped Itachi stand. Itachi looked at Kakashi. He could feel his face swelling.

“Let’s go get something for your face,” Kakashi advised, herding Itachi on to the path. Itachi wondered if he was shocky, or if he was just stunned by what had happened. Kakashi kept an arm under his, keeping him from veering or swaying.

“They recognized you—or thought they did,” Kakashi amended. Itachi looked up and stared. Kakashi shrugged. “I caught the signal the woman sent the mock leader when she saw your face. Either you let something show, or she recognized your face.” Kakashi kept his voice low, and Itachi felt dumbfounded. So the jump had been to prove he wasn’t a ninja, not that they thought he could give them something. Hopefully they had decided that he wasn’t, but he would have to be careful.

“I need to tell him.” Itachi hid the words behind his hand, but he could see Kakashi’s steps falter. They walked in silence for a while, and, then, Kakashi sighed.

“Then let us get you cleaned up and presentable.”

~

“He’s _furious_ at me,” Itachi confided to the cook as she gave him sweet buns. He really did like her. The chakra laced ointment Kakashi had applied kept his face from looking too terrible, but they couldn’t do too much for it. Kakashi said it was likely only a fracture. Itachi felt like his face had been crushed.  The cook plied him with delicacies as if she thought so too. After being beaten by almost everyone he’d come into contact with today, Itachi could stand some coddling.

“He’s done it again!” Mai, one of the kitchen helpers, declared as she came in with a fresh catch of fish. Itachi knew it was fresh because the octopus was trying to climb out of the basket. “You should have seen the look on Ayame’s face!” Mai laughed as he closed the door behind her. She thumped her basket down and pulled the octopus back in.

“What gossip are you dragging in today?” Cook asked, pretending to be wearied and scornful. She wasn’t. This place lived on gossip and tales.

“Shisui, of course. He’s got that Lady Captain who came in a few days ago hanging all off him. You woulda laughed to see it. He started of bettin’ with all her men, and he cleaned them _out_ in Cuckold. I’ve never seen anyone play that well. You know he had to be cheatin’, but no one could prove it and none of the villagers would speak up about it.”

Mai started working as she spoke, her voice high and bright as she chattered. She wasn’t old, but she wasn’t young. She was the only child of the cook who remained on the island. The others had either died or left to make their own fortunes. Mai sorted the fish with a practiced flair, setting some aside to be salted and others for tonight supper.

“Anyway, one of the sailors ran and got the Lady Captain, and she said something about Lady Luck being back with Shisui—and then he cleaned her out as well. And they were flirting over the board the whole time. Hana said it was positively _obscene_ , and by the time they got done, well, everyone was surprised they didn’t just do it on the floor. Ayame wouldn’t rent them a room, though. Said that her inn wasn’t a brothel,” Mai chuckled heartily, and then jumped as she turned her head to grab a knife and suddenly saw Itachi was there.

The cook gave her a stern look. “Well, ye’ve started, go ahead and finish.” Mai gave Itachi a looked that he thought was apologetic—why it was he had no idea. She looked less pleased with her story now, but she continued.

“Well, anyway, the Lady Captain got all mad, started throwing a hissy fit. Ayame wouldn’t budge. And Shisui’s just standing there, looking like a cat in the cream as the Lady Captain, ah…hung all off him like a fish net. She--the Lady Captain storm out, mad as hell. _Then_ , one of her men follows her out. Don’t know where they were going, but the guy cuts ‘em off, calls Shisui a cheat. We all know he was jealous, and no one could _prove_ Shisui was cheating. Everyone in the inn vouched for him being honest.”

Mai laughed again here, warming again to her tale again as she sorted through her fish. She glanced at Itachi and winked. “It’s how we get our dues from the foreigners. You know they’ll cheat you, charge too much for the things you want, so we take it back however we can.” And Shisui was their trickster spirit. Itachi nodded, amused by this view and wondering if it explained a lot of how Shisui acted.

“So he challenges Shisui to a fight. And Shisui whines and simpers and tries to slither out of it, but no one’s having it. All the other crew were cheering him on, and the Lady Captain demanded any guy of hers wouldn’t be no coward. So she shoved him in, and would you believe it? Guy gets one good punch on Shisui—busts up his eye, then he can’t touch him. The danced all around the square—wrecked Hana’s stall and everything. And the guy never got another hit on Shisui. Just wore himself out and Shisui pushed him over like he was a toddler. You’ve never seen someone move so fast.” Mai giggled and shook her head.

“Well, after that, Lady Captain was really pleased, so she…” Mai glanced at Itachi and paused. “She decided she was going to take him back to the ship—said he’d cost her a man and he’d better pay her back.”

“Did he go with her?” The cook asked brusquely.

Mai nodded. “He did.”

“Well, we won’t be seeing him for a few months now. It’s about time he disappeared again,” The cook grumbled.

“How long ago did this happen?” Itachi asked softly.

“Eh? Not long, they just finished fighting when I went through the square—that’s what took me so long. They had it all blocked up,” Mai explained. She was giving Itachi an odd look. Itachi nodded and smiled.

“I think I’ll head out for a while and give Kaika-san a chance to cool off.” Itachi stood slowly, aware they were watching him. Now he could guess what they were thinking.  He had no intention of going off and acting like a scorned lover.

“Maybe you ought to stay,” Mai suggested. “Supper’ll be done soon, and nothing soothes a temper like some good food. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

Itachi shook his head. “I won’t be gone long—and I want to stop by the apothecary and get something for my face.” He calmly sidestepped the cook’s objection and offering of her own remedy and retreated out the door. Of course, the Mist-nin could have arrived as Itachi and Kakashi had, but there was another option. They could have come by ship, and trapping someone known for their speed would be _much_ easier in the enclosed space of a ship then on the open island he’d grown up on.


	7. Open Ears

A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. –Oscar Wilde

_Did I ask you_  
 _For attention_  
 _When affection_  
 _Is what I need._  
Twilight Galaxy-Metric

* * *

 

Shisui was drunk and he knew it. It wasn’t alcohol. No, he’d gotten drunk on memories. He was drunk on the fascinating feeling of other people’s minds, motives and feelings. They bumped and tangled with his own, conflicting and complimenting in turns. He was dizzy trying to remember which thoughts were his and which weren’t. Every time he caught on to something he thought might be _his_ , another, brighter, better thought distracted him into chasing it. He never could decide for that moment he held a thought if it was his or not.

Yeah, he’d pushed too far. Yeah, that probably wasn’t smart. It felt _good_ , though. He’d pushed and pushed his limits. He’d been on such a _roll_. Everyone had been watching him. They’d all stared with hate and admiration. Some had reviled him because they thought he was a cheat or something worse. He was _so_ much worse. They’d probably hang him and drown him and burn him all if they knew. Shisui could care less.

He’d _won_.

Now he was trying to sort out the euphoric feeling of the Captain’s skin on his skin. He’d been waiting a long time for this, hadn’t he? Had he? How long? Why? Years, ever since she’d taken him on. He loved a strong woman.  He wanted to make her submit. He wanting to make her crawl and _beg_. Show her her proper place. He wanted her to order him around. He wanted to touch her—have her touch him. Wanted, wantedwanted _wanted_ \---

No, he didn’t. The thought of her touching his skin made him want to puke. Just another person to use him. Just another con, nothing like what he’d been planning. Nothing like where he’d thought he’d be right now, tangled in sheets with an honest affection and clumsy desire. He’d been aiming for something higher and sweeter that wouldn’t poison his appetite and leave him clawing the diseased skin from his body.

Shisui stumbled. She yanked him up to his feet. Shisui realized she was telling him all the things she would do to him. All the lovely nasty degrading things she would put him through, because she was the type that needed to establish her total dominance over a pet, and he was her pet now. When you controlled someone’s mind, affected slavish devotion was easy to pull off. Shisui smiled and pressed his face into her arm, glad she was tall—taller than he was. Made things easier. Made him remember he wasn’t all of those other men because they were taller than her.

So he wasn’t _them_ , but who was he? That he struggled to get a handle on, warring with the desire to pull her closer or be repulsed by how she petted him. He wasn’t her pet, but wouldn’t he like that? Wasn’t that his goal? His aim and his desire?

Hard to remember. Hard to care. Was he drunk? He couldn’t remember. Someone was drunk and it was leaking all over the place, like a leaky boat. Should caulk that. Caulk it right away. Wow, couldn’t that be a great euphemism? Maybe she’d teach him how to talk dirty on a ship. Maybe he wouldn’t be allowed to talk dirty cause he was the pet or some fish guts like that. They’d see who ended up with the collar, who ended up _serving_.

Dizzy thoughts. Too many desires, all conflicting up in his head. Every time he saw himself reaching to touch her, his hands were different. Oh Susanoo’s ears, what if he didn’t get out of it this time? Buried deep down, the real Shisui felt a moment of panic (all he was allowed). He’d always worried he might lose himself under the taste of all the other minds—all their thoughts and desires pressing on him for fulfillment. Octopus and sea urchins, what if he didn’t come back?

The worry was swallowed in a wave of desire as he caught her scent, pictured himself popping that tight shirt off. He saw an intricate depiction of Amaterasu on his left forearm, one he’d put there for good luck. Shisui stared at his naked arm and wondered where it had gone.

“Shisui!”

The name and voice snapped into place. It shoved _Shisui_ to the center of everything, shattering the others out and ripping through the fragile illusions—like putting your hands through a screen. Shisui whipped his head around like a called dog. His eye throbbed with the movement, and he realized that he’d been punched earlier. It helped to cement his identity. He expected it to take him a moment to recognize the face through the slew of memories. It didn’t.

Itachi’s cheek had bruised spectacularly, swollen and bluing already. It had swollen enough the bottom lid of his eye was puffy. Shisui hadn’t hit him _that_ hard. He knew that. He’d only wanted to leave Itachi something to remember him by for a few days. That looked like enough swelling for a fractured cheekbone. Shisui definitely hadn’t hit him that hard. Had Kakashi? Had that been his punishment, maybe for Shisui’s traps? For so horribly bungling the dealing with their contact? Because some men hit children whose minds were too quick and whose tongues were too truthful?

“Shisui, what are you doing?” Itachi only came three steps closer, his eyes flickering between Shisui and the woman. The Lady Captain. Moanna. Shisui oriented himself to the world again and swallowed the taste of booze. So he was the drunk one. Whoops.

“Isn’t it obvious? I thought you were smart, Ita-ri.” His voice slurred. Stupid slip up. Definitely drunk. Now that he wasn’t so disoriented his head was pounding and aching. Too many memories all shoved up in there. Too many conflicting little ideas and impressions. He could tell what was his now, but his reactions were all going to be slowed a fraction. If Itachi wanted to fight, he might win this round—if he could make himself land a blow.

“You’re drunk.” The frown that creased Itachi’s brow was easy. Worry laced with disapproval. Easy. See, Shisui could still read Uchiha Inari-Itachi. Whatever the brat’s name was. Shisui remembered people by their minds anyway.

Shisui laughed. “I am having a good time.” Such a good time, in fact, he felt the need to puke. Always a sign of a good time, that.

“Oh, I see, you’re that boy he was messing around with before I showed up—the scholar kid,” Moanna said, turning them both around to gawk at Itachi. So she’d been listening to gossip, or maybe she’d been asking about him. How sweet of her.

“We weren’t messing around,” Itachi mumbled, dropping his gaze.

“Ah? That’s a shame.” Shisui caught the grin on her face and went cold. “Why don’t you come have some fun with us? I’d feel so guilty taking your boy away.” Of course she’d like Itachi. Of course she’d want to play with him too. If anyone looked like they could be dominated, it was him. He wasn’t the type to keep her interest—too demure looking. He acted too proper, but she’d enjoy one night of corruption. Tsukiyomi’s ass, she’d destroy him with that one night and leave him broken on the shore with a laugh.

Itachi gave Shisui a wide-eyed look. Shisui started disentangling himself  from Moanna. “You wouldn’t like him. Scholars, you know. They don’t like for them to get _distracted_.” Shisui made a snipping motion with his hands. “Makes a boy no fun, that’s what I say,” Shisui whispered in her ear, lacing it with enough genjutsu to make his words unquestionable. Moanna lifted her head a laughed.

“Really? Such a pity—maybe we should check,” She laughed again and started forward.

“Already did, not any fun…” Shisui pulled from her arm, flashed her a red eyed promise. It made his head feel like it was going to explode. “I’ll send him on his way and we can have _our_ fun.”  A waggle of the fingers, then Shisui stepped forward and grabbed Itachi’s arm, forcing him back two steps.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shisui growled, low enough Moanna wouldn’t hear. “Didn’t I make it pretty clear what I was going to do when I saw you again?”

Itachi glanced over Shisui’s shoulder at Moanna. He bit his lip and drew closer, grabbing Shisui’s shirt. “There are Mist-nin here, and they’re looking for you, Shisui.” Itachi pitched his voice to a low murmur, his body language perfect for a scorned lover. It proved the kid was a better actor than Shisui had thought.

“ _What_?” Shisui went cold. This had been his fear for ages. Now, here he was, stuck between Mist and Konoha. Mist would take his eyes from him, wouldn’t they? Maybe not, but he couldn’t run that risk. Shisui’s hand sank into Itachi’s arm, hard enough he heard a mutter of complaint from the boy. Another set of bruises from Shisui. The kid had to be a masochist for coming back after all of this.

Oddly, Shisui didn’t doubt Itachi.

“We agreed you could come hide with us until they leave, but Shisui—Shi…don’t get on the ship,” Itachi begged softly, shooting a glanced at Moanna and moving closer.

“Yeah, they came on that ship you think? Why should I trust you?” Shisui tipped Itachi’s chin up. Itachi blinked, shook his head.

“You don’t anyway, but you can’t take the risk. Don’t go on the boat.” That sounded a lot like begging. Shisui shifted back, but Itachi’s hold didn’t lessen. Shisui looked back at Moanna. Was it too good to be true? Would he find himself shackled to Mist-nin as soon as things got fun?

“Who broke your pretty face?” Shisui asked, thumb tracing the hot swelling and stalling for time. That was definitely enough swelling for a fracture. All puffy and hot and painful, he was sure.

“They wanted to make sure I didn’t know where you were,” The body language was tense, but the tone casual. Of course, no Uchiha would be afraid of pain, would he? Itachi was probably the perfect little ninja.  “I didn’t tell them anything, but _please_ , Shisui, they’re on your trail and you _have_ to be careful.”

If Shisui didn’t know any better, he’d think Itachi was worried about him. Luckily, he knew better. The child could lie as well as anyone, and Shisui was drunk. He got sentimental when drunk.

“Thanks for the tip, darling,” Shisui ducked his head, lips brushing against the swollen cheek. Itachi didn’t flinch, but stilled as Shisui moved. No fear, just caution. Stupid kid. Or a kid that was used to taking hard licks from his elders. Maybe he was trying to prove a point that Shisui didn’t scare him—or wouldn’t be allowed to boss him around. Heel cur, bow, sit, beg. “Next time I catch you alone, I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

Shisui yanked his hand away and turned. He walked quickly back to Moanna, draping himself back over her. “Sorry, can we get going now? Have some fun now that the kiddies are taken care of?” Shisui asked, begging as he looked her over like he wanted her.

Her answer was of course, with that predatory glimmer in her eyes. She started for the ship again. Shisui risked casting one glance back at Itachi, and found the boy staring after them, a sick look on his face. Shisui turned his head away and now wished he had the dizzy chaos of too many thoughts back. Now he was thinking too clearly, and he liked none of those knife edged realizations.

~

Possibly one of the least erotic things ever was vomit—especially when it smelled of liquor and old fish, spewed down a woman’s breasts. No breasts were ever attractive under a coating of vomit. Shisui had yet to meet a libido that could stand up under it either. Shisui’s tolerance for alcohol was excellent, mostly because he knew all the tricks to keep himself from drinking half as much as people thought he was. His ability to vomit on command? That took work.

Shisui didn’t do it because of what Itachi had said. He didn’t do it because he trusted Itachi or valued his advice. He did it because he was paranoid, and Itachi had hit on his oldest fear. His mother’s stories of Mist had always been told in a hushed voice, justifying her flight from the village with its brutality. Everyone knew about bloody Mist anyway. It was just as well known as Konoha’s softness. For Shisui, both held peril, but Mist had always been more immediate. His mother had never said he was an Uchiha and that they would come for his Sharingan, but she had told him they would come for him if they knew how fast and wonderful he was.

_You had better be the fastest, Shisui, so they’ll never be able to catch you!_

With that old, perfectly logical fear rolling around in his head, and the drunkenness, Shisui didn’t think going into a small enclosed space with anyone would be a good idea. He hadn’t exactly kept a low profile today, and even if Moanna wasn’t involved, the ship could have still been a death trap for him. With _that_ thought, he’d been far too jittery to even think of preforming, and he’d rather not have her decide he was helplessly impotent. Thus: vomit.

That left Shisui flickering across the island. He’d stopped that just now, out of breath and needing to vomit again. He disturbed a few roosting crows from an old twisted tree. They took off with mouths full of scolding and screaming, settling in the upper branches. One gave a very soft ‘awp’ and took off into the night. Shisui sneered and started walking.

The closer he got to his cave, the slower he got. The night had turned thick with fog. Shisui had known it would since it had drizzled on and off all day. It hid him well, but it would also make him easier to lay in wait for. Itachi and Kakashi had found his hide away, so had the other ninja? Shisui formed a water clone, drawing it easily from the air around him. His clone went slinking off, soon lost to Shisui’s eyes.

The clone quickly crawled down the face of the cliff. It entered the small tunnel and made it to the chest with no incident. His traps were still intact. Shisui followed, hands slipping on the damp cliff face despite the chakra control. The infinite drop into the fog made his stomach lurch. His control was weak due to the drinking and the after effects of memory poisoning. He could fall. He might just fall to his _death_ and no one would know. He’d be carried out to sea. Shisui giggled. Lost at sea. He’d always been afraid of drowning—oh no wait, that was someone else. For only a moment, Shisui was unsure, but that was enough. He lost control of his chakra.

Shisui shrieked despite himself as he almost fell, hands grabbing the edges of the tunnel at the last moment. He managed enough chakra to kick himself into the tunnel and crawled down like the worm he was. Shisui fumbled the chest away with his hands and slithered out the tiny space and into the dark cave, feeling much like a slimy wet creature being birthed. Shisui lay on his back, his head aching and wondered how he’d let himself get into such a state. He was getting unbelievably stupid. Horribly stupid. Dead stupid.

“Maybe I have a brain tumor,” Shisui suggested  to the air, rubbing his hands over his face.  Slowly, he righted himself and decided that with the way in blocked and trapped, he was safe enough. The nin-dog had triggered the peek trap, but the other two were still up. Shisui would still smell the acid if they weren’t. That was odd. So Itachi hadn’t come after him? They’d just let him _go_? Was he not that important?

Shisui began to get offended before he remembered it was a good thing. What he really wanted was to scrub himself down with some sand or sea salt and feel clean. He knew it wouldn’t help the foreign sensations crawling all over his skin from the over memory share, but it would make him feel better to be _clean_. He liked being clean. Dirty meant you weren’t doing well. If you were clean, it meant you were in control. Maybe if he scrubbed off the sludge of all these memories, he’d be on top of things again.

Shisui blinked, realizing he’d fallen asleep on the floor like a cur dog. Shisui sat up, feeling disturbingly upset over something. He blinked and saw Itachi standing there, his face swollen and discolored.

_They wanted to know. I didn’t tell them anything._

Shisuis didn’t think anyone had ever been tortured for him. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Itachi qualified as torture, but he felt guilt smash into him. In a way, that was good. It meant he was coming back this time, and the memories would be fading off into annoying whispers after another few hours of heckling him. Unfortunately, it also proved something to him.

When it came to Itachi, he was drowned. Sunk and drowned on the ocean floor. Why? Cause he’d done something far stupider than fall in love with the kid like he’d first thought he had. Love was easy. It burned itself out pretty quick or it soured into disgusted apathy or outright hate if you played things right. Love wasn’t dangerous. It could make you stupid, but Shisui had been in and out of love all over this island and the world since he was eleven. This was worse.

What he felt was this deep, soul rooted conviction of his responsibility for Itachi’s pain. That was stupid. Crazy. He was responsible for only the bruises he’d put on Itachi’s body himself, and the boy had asked for every one of them. This wasn’t the quick, hot, snapping burn of love. Love was a fire. This was like an ocean with a nasty undercurrent he’d never felt until it was too late. So what was it? Shisui gnawed on his lip. It was something that made his gut react and trust Itachi, which was stupidest of all. It was going to get him killed, if he hadn’t already tangled himself up in these nets too tightly to swim. Or run. If he could run, then he could get out of this.

Shisui crawled to start himself a fire. He could eat something warm and bellyache about his stupidity. He’d plan tomorrow morning. He’d consider it all dispassionately and know his judgment was completely swamped when it came to Itachi.

“Stupid big-eyed pretty boy…” Shisui continued grumbling under his breath, getting far more creative and vicious as he warmed to the subject of degrading Itachi. It was personal. Completely and as intimately as possible personal. “Then I’ll string you up by your _testicles_ …” Wait, Shisui might have already cut those off and made baby booties from them. Shisui paused and heard a small noise at the “door.” He tensed. He could swear it was a knock. No one would _knock_ at his door. They must be trying to get in—ah, there it was again. Shisui reached for his knife and realized Itachi still had it.

Shisui swore violently under his breath and lunged for his fishing spear. The door suddenly opened with the smell of  acid burning the rock but no screams.  Shisui drew back into the shadows and sank into a crouch, remembering Itachi’s warning about the Mist-nin. Shisui didn’t have time to make for his tunnel, and if they caught him in there, he’d be done for. The fire still burned, so they would be able to tell he hadn’t been gone very long.

A small body came through the opening, rolling neatly to avoid the other trap. Shisui jerked up tense as narrowed red eyes swept the room, lighting on him with no difficulty. For a moment, Shisui couldn’t place the ninja who faced him. Had they brought another Uchiha in to deal with him? It seemed possible for a fraction of a second, then he saw the black ponytail and knew it was Itachi. _Itachi_. The bruise mottled his skin oddly in the firelight. Shisui actually only had a second to think that. Then Itachi _moved_.

Shisui moved too, remembering his promise to gut Itachi like a fish next time he caught the boy alone—and he tried. Shisui wasn’t anything near peak condition, and Itachi moved well. Hell, he moved perfectly. He moved with precision, though to Shisui’s red eyes, it looked jerky. Still, he had to admire the kids control as he easily kicked the spear from Shisui’s hands, jumping over the scything kick that should have brought him _down_.

Shisui was faster, but Itachi read him so easily. He dodged Shisui’s punch and knocked the next one easily aside. He didn’t pull a weapon, and his face was a perfectly blank mask, just covered with anticipation. Shisui slid by, almost stumbled, then whirled and went for Itachi again. He hooked a foot behind Itachi’s knee, something he shouldn’t have been able to do, and Itachi went down. Shisui landed hard on him, and he _saw_ Itachi had time to react.

Instead, the boy had gone limp--perfectly malleable as Shisui’s hands clamped around his throat. Itachi’s throat was as slender and warm as it had been before when he’d come to deliver the salve. Shisui could feel Itachi’s pulse as he slammed his thumbs into each carotid artery and _pressed._ Itachi grey eyes flew wide, and Shisui could _see_ the Sharingan trying to bleed through them. Itachi didn’t let it. He didn’t react at all in the seconds it took for him to lose consciousness and fall limp.

Shisui slowly drew his hands back, shifting to half sit on Itachi’s ribs. Now he had Itachi unconscious. He’d be awake soon, but Shisui had more than enough time to kill him. Or tie him up, or do anything really. So what did he do?

What could he do? He knew the Uchiha would be after him if he killed Itachi. He could tie him up and run, but he needed to be cautious if there were Mist-nin around. Shisui screwed up his face and crossed his arms. He had come to an impasse. There was only one thing to do.

Itachi came to almost cautiously. He blinked only once then eased his eyes all the way open. His hands stayed lax and defenseless, but his eyes widened as he saw Shisui crouched over him. Shisui leaned forward a little. Itachi still made no move to defend himself. He’d just shown Shisui how good he was. This display was purposeful. Shisui wanted to throttle him all over again.

“We,” Shisui began imperiously. “Have a problem.”

“Oh?” Itachi cocked an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t move. Shisui could feel the flutter of his Itachi pulse (perfectly slow and calm) and his regular breathing.

“Because of you, I’m going to end up dead.” Shisui pointed a finger at Itachi’s nose. “I accept that. I accept the consequences of making you fall in love with me, but I at least have the freedom to choose _how_ I am going to die.”

_Now_ Itachi flushed, lips twisting into a petulant little scowl as he glared at Shisui. “I am not in love with you.”

“You’ve never been in love, so you have no idea what you’re saying. Hush, let the adults talk.” Itachi looked ready to head-butt Shisui,

“Stop patronizing me,” Itachi commanded. That was pretty cute—like a puppy growling when you tried to make it behave. Ultimately, the behavior had to go, but it was still cute.

“Well look, every time I beat your guts out, you just come crawling back. Obviously we need to have a little chat and sort things out, preferably before you have to give a tearful eulogy over my unmarked grave, got it?” Shisui leaned a little farther forward. Itachi nodded. Good boy. Sit and roll over would come next. Shisui had to admit, the Uchiha trained their dog well. They bred for looks too.

“So let’s get this straight. Ignoring any personal feelings, I am _screwed_. We both know I can’t kill you, or your clan’s going to pick my corpse clean. Going with Mist is _not_ an option, and neither is going with _you_ —” This time Shisui had to clamp a hand over Itachi’s mouth. Itachi glowered. “Because Konoha could twist me up just as bad as Mist. I’m not saying that _you_ would. Amaterasu’s tits, I _know_ you wouldn’t. You ‘ _like’_ me. You want to take me home and have me live in your backyard, but you’re what? One little baby ANBU? You can’t protect me from your village, minnow.” And Shisui wasn’t selfish enough to ask him too. Itachi looked on the verge of rolling his very large, ridiculously lash lined eyes.

“That’s why you came, right? To beg me to take your protection again? Well I _would_ , but we’d both get chewed up by clan and village politics, and I don’t fancy playing the role of tragic lovers any time soon, got it?”

Itachi shook his head. He worked his lips under Shisui’s hand, and Shisui remembered very well getting chomped last time. Shisui reluctantly pulled his hand away from Itachi’s mouth. Itachi worked his jaw a little before speaking. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you even know I’d be here?” Shisui asked.

Itachi shrugged and smiled, utterly pleased with himself. “A little bird told me.”

“No, really, how did you know?” Shisui pushed one thumb into Itachi’s ever calm pulse. Had Itachi just _known_ Shisui wouldn’t be able to carry out his plans after receiving that news? Had the little _brat_ planned it that way?

“Really, a bird told me.” Itachi promised. Shisui wrinkled his nose and remembered the crows he’d startled up.

“You little shit—you put a recognition genjutsu on the _crows_?” Shisui had used it on dogs before, but crows? They hardly had brains to begin with.

Itachi was still smiling. Shisui wanted to pinch his cheeks. He hated feeling like someone had gotten the best of him. Hell. He was _sitting_ on Itachi, one hand on his neck. Itachi should be the one cowering and feeling like he’d just been bested. What kind of _kid_ had the composure to make a missing-nin in his own den feel like he was losing his upper hand?

Itachi twitched his head to the side a little. “Only one.” He was a lucky little shit too. Shisui growled, which only seemed to please Itachi more. That would _not_ do at all.

“Well, while we’re _here_ , there’s a matter of unsettled debts. See, I had this great evening planned, and then some little kit waltzed in and ruined it for me by delivering some nasty news…completely ruined the mood and all. I should probably be grateful and everything, since he thinks he saved my hide, but maybe I can get even _and_ reward him all in one go, you think?” Shisui gave Itachi his best lascivious grin as he leaned forward and down a little. _Now_ he got a reaction, as his little admirer drew up completely tense and might have stopped breathing. Shisui could practically feel Itachi thinking of how to throw Shisui off.

Shisui would say his upper hand was back. He thunked his forehead into Itachi’s, bracing himself with an elbow on the ground above Itachi’s head. Itachi scrunched his eyes shut, perfectly still. Shisui had never met someone who’d let you choke them out then flinched from a kiss. Guess that told him a lot about Itachi and how he felt. Shisui was tempted to see how far he could push Itachi—really map out how far this ‘let Shisui do what he wants’ program would go.

Instead, Shisui laughed, shifting his head and pecking Itachi on his forehead. “You’re _easy_ , you know that?” Shisui rolled off Itachi and went to check on his soup. He turned his back on Itachi, and when he settled by his fire facing the boy, Itachi still hadn’t moved. Well, he’d opened his eyes, but that was it.

“Nice to know you think I’m into molesting little kiddies, Itachi,” Shisui rolled his eyes and stirred his soup. “You can stay for breakfast, but you gotta go after that.”

“I’m not a kid.” Itachi slowly sat up and watched Shisui for a few long moments before crawling over to his fire.

“You’re what—thirteen? You’re a baby.” Shisui was actually hoping for fourteen and praying for fifteen. Big eyes and a soft face could make you look much younger.

Itachi frowned. “Twelve.”

Shisui stared, horror struck. “ _No._ ”

Itachi looked something between pleased and annoyed. “I’ll be thirteen this summer.” Which was a good ways away. Shisui groaned. He’d almost tried to seduce a _twelve year-old_. This was punishment for his loose ways, wasn’t it? His enjoyment of such carnal pleasures was coming back to bite him in the butt. Hard. He’d tried to seduce a _twelve year-old_. He’d always had a special abhorrence for those who were sexually attracted to children. This couldn’t have almost happened. _Couldn’t_.

“Does being drunk make you daft?” Itachi asked sharply.

“No…” Shisui needed to finish this conversation before he found other reasons to hate himself. “Okay, look, the fact of the matter is this. I like you. You like me. In a different world, we probably would have been _very_ good friends, but that’s simply not possible. As much as we want an alliance between the two of us to work out, it wouldn’t. What I need you to do is back off and give me a chance to get out of this alive, okay?” Shisui looked at Itachi levelly. No hurt feelings, right?

Itachi raised his chin a bit, his posture becoming a little more erect and formal. Silly kid. He looked ridiculous. He looked like he was trying way too hard. Someone should have taught him how to be a child. “What if I could assure you that you’d be treated well in Konoha?”

Shisui shook his head. “See, that’s the problem, you can’t. I trust you, okay? As much as I trust anyone, but people like you and me don’t get to dictate how things are done.  So I can’t give up my freedom knowing the only person who cares about me beyond my eyeballs can’t do a squiggling thing to protect me.”

“But I can,” Itachi protested. He looked horribly earnest too.

Shisui sighed and put his head in his heads. “Fine. Shoot. How are you going to save me from getting chewed apart by your clan, smarty gills?”

“If I bring you in, then you’ll be the Uchiha’s problem— ”

“Okay, minnow, that’s not any better than Konoha chewing me up. I’m a _half breed_. I ain’t all fancy and polished up. No Uchiha’s going to be happy to have _me_ around, and they won’t let me run around cause they’d be afraid of me up and leaving, got it?” Shisui rubbed his face and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “It’s _not_ worth the risk.”

“—and the Uchiha will listen to me about you,” Itachi continued as if this was simple math.

“You can’t guarantee they will, Itachi, okay? I know you want to think you can, but you’re an insider. I’m going to be the wild half breed bastard they have to control for the sake of appearance, and I am not going to sit there and be a nice little lap dog for them.” Shisui might not know that much about clan politics, but he gathered all the rumors he could about the Uchiha. He’d considered going to them when his mother had died, but he had quickly convinced himself that would be the worst idea ever.

“They won’t.” Itachi still sounded ridiculously matter of fact. “They’ll follow my instruction when it comes to you, because I am the Uchiha heir, and at the moment, their most promising protégé.”

Shisui peeked between his hands and stared. No. No way. It wasn’t _possible_. He had not just—oh that made everything ten times worse, but it explained so much about Itachi’s attitude and determination. Oh, _gooooooods_ , Shisui was so screwed. Terminally screwed. His argument went up in smoke because Itachi probably could protect him from whatever the clan wanted. They’d probably view him as Itachi’s little pet and dismiss his bad behavior easily.

Susanoo’s _balls_ in a knitting basket, nothing about his life was ever going to be easy or simple again, was it? Shisui dropped his head into his hands and groaned. Life. Life was a bitch. Luck was even worse, and both were splitting a side _laughing_ at him, weren’t they? Shisui scrubbed his hands vigorously through his hair and over his face, hard enough to hurt. Now he had to admit to the kid that he just didn’t _want_ to go to Konoha. He didn’t want to give this up. He would feel like a failure if he had to run crying to a village, especially if a twelve year-old brat would be his protector.

“Maybe I don’t want to put you in that position,” Shisui countered.

Itachi sighed. “I know you don’t want to come, but I think you _should_.” Still too rational. Still too pleased with himself and practically _begging_ with large grey eyes.

“Are you going to give me my space if I say I’ll think about it?” Shisui asked

"I just came to see if you were all right, not beg you to do something you don't wish to," Itachi bowed his head just a bit, and Shisui again felt Itachi had this all under control. How? Was he just good at acting, or did he really feel so much more secure with his position?

_Because you said he liked you, and now he feels like he knows you again._

Shisui grimaced. No helping that. "You are more trouble than a basketful of live eels, you know that?" Shisui growled the words, but Itachi smiled, crooked and wide and stunning. That was the child's real smile. That was what Shisui had been digging for all those long days, and now that he wasn't trying, it dropped in his lap.

_You could do anything you wanted with him now._ Shisui had always been good at telling when someone fell for his con fully. This was one of those times, but it wasn't normal. This time he got the satisfaction and an odd, warm feeling in his gut that touched his lips and tried to flick them into a smile. Shisui cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

"Look, have some soup and warm up, but you'd better leave before it gets any lighter. The oni will get you." Shisui was more worried about the Mist-nin lurking around. Itachi nodded, bowed and thanked him. There he sat, the heir to the great Uchiha clan, the poorest child in the world because he'd found his first friend at twelve, and under such circumstances.

Shisui sighed and served them both frothy soup.

~

They came just before dawn. Shisui had reset his traps, but they didn't trigger any. It didn't matter He woke up and _knew_ they were coming. He also knew that he didn’t have enough time to escape. He couldn’t fight all four by himself and couldn’t afford to assume that they wouldn’t come in full force. Shisui slipped his feet into his sandals and grabbed an ugly, heavy knife.

Had they followed Itachi here? Shisui pushed the thought from his mind and sank down. The first to come through was a young man. Quick, lithe, carrying a heavy bladed spear. Shisui flickered in an instant, eyes burning red. His Sharingan twisted into the Mangekyou, and slammed into the man’s mind. He would kill to keep Shisui from the hands of his comrades.

For a moment, Shisui was blasted with denial. The scream of a command that warred with the man’s very sense of self. The leader was his half-brother, the woman his lover. All of them his friends. As Shisui stitched that command into the man’s mind, he swept aside all contradicting doctrine’s and thoughts. He would protect Shisui because Shisui was the most important. He had to. He had no _choice._

Doubt dropped from the man’s mind, leaving it all in Shisui’s. The doubt screamed with _pain_ , louder than sense. Shisui’s head exploded. His eyes burst, gushing blood down his face as he reeled under the sudden barrage of memories that were not _his_ , but belonged to only him now. As the second man came into the cave, the first whirled with a bellow and tried to cleave him in two. In his shock, he didn’t react quickly enough. Only his armor saved him.

Shisui flew. He flickered out of his little cave, flying in space. There was a woman on the path waiting for him. She’d been distracted by the fighting she’d heard. Shisui came straight at her. He had the advantage. He could kill her—

Then he saw her lying in his bed, his hand curled in her soft brown hair. She was talking about wanting to start a family in a hushed voice, smiling because no one should know. They must show now weakness, but she trusted him—

Shisui missed. He stumbled and tripped and missed, and her blade cut him open.


	8. Fractured Minds

_They got one eye watching you_   
_And one eye, what you do?_   
_So be careful 'cause nothing they say is true_

_Bu-but don't believe a word_   
_It's just us against the world_   
_And we just gotta turn to be heard_

. . .   
 _I can hear them climbing the stairs_  
 _I got my left side, fight you on my left_  
 _Hiding under the chairs_  
Major Minus-Coldplay

* * *

 

Dawn was coming.

Itachi curled up in the window, sipping the tea Kakashi had given him. Evidently the man expected Itachi to foam at the mouth or have a seizure since he’d eaten a meal that Shisui had prepared. Itachi watched dawn begin to light up the foggy morning, feeling oddly content with how things were going, but Kakashi had given him pain medication earlier, and now Itachi wasn’t feeling the constant throb of his cheek. It could be the dizzy euphoria of drugs, but Itachi didn’t think so.

Now, Itachi was really ready to sleep. He was tired and chilled, though the tea had him feeling pleasantly warm in his gut and sleepy. Itachi wasn’t sure Kakashi had slept. He might have stayed up and waited for Itachi to come back. Itachi had finished his explanation of what had happened, carefully abridged, and Kakashi seemed to accept it. Now he just watched Itachi closely. Maybe he hadn’t accepted it as blithely as Itachi had thought. There were too many layer of Kakashi to dig through right now.

“Since you’ve been awake for twenty-four hours, perhaps it’s time you slept,” Kakashi suggested. Evidently he’d decided Itachi hadn’t been poisoned. The thought hadn’t even occurred to Itachi.  Shisui’s ploy hadn’t been violence this time, but honesty—or as close as they were going to come to honesty in this life.

Itachi nodded. He would like to know what Kakashi thought of all of this, but he was carefully bland right now. Was Itachi straying into dangerous waters? Was it just too late for him all around? Did it matter? Should he be worried for himself, and how easily he’d been led to believe a man who had tried to kill him several times? Itachi didn’t know. He just knew he trusted Shisui, though he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe they were similar. Maybe Itachi was lonely and stupid. A child begging for attention. Really, that was what Shisui made him feel like sometimes—a child. A little child just waiting and hoping for someone older’s attentions.

Kakashi took the empty mug from Itachi’s hands, startling him a bit. The man’s fingers touched Itachi’s forehead for exactly three seconds, and then withdrew as he nodded to himself. “Get some sleep, Itachi.”

This time, Itachi rolled from the window seat and headed for bed. He pulled his brush from his pack and sat down to brush out his hair first, pulling it down carefully. Itachi rubbed at his scalp, trying to relieve the feeling that it had been pulled too tight. Uncomfortable. Unpleasant. He’d be glad to finally get home.

And he would be, not just for the physical comfort. He was starting to feel the mental wear of the mission. His entire life had been filled with missions, but they had all been easy. His life with his clan was one complex train of thought, weaving in and out of people’s motives and actions, but those people he knew. They all followed the unspoken rules of the clan, but no one here did. Shisui especially. Every time Itachi thought he had Shisui figured out, the boy flipped on him, coming back around as something else while still remaining the same person.

Itachi tied his hair back in a low ponytail, much more relaxed and easy on his scalp. Itachi placed the brush aside and turned the covers back from his bed. He crawled in, pulling the covers up high enough to block out the light or the growing morning. He caught a flicker of motion in the window and gently tugged down the covers as Kakashi moved like a flash—

And Shisui came tumbling into the room. All Itachi could focus on was the splash of blood that splayed across the floor when Shisui fell on it. Itachi was up in a moment, almost falling by Shisui as Kakashi looked out the window. Shisui curled in on himself, making small, pained noises and muttering. He laughed, a choked noise that made Itachi’s skin crawl. Itachi gingerly reached down to touch Shisui’s uppermost shoulder, waiting for Shisui to lash out. Shisui didn’t. He just moaned and curled in on himself more.

“Shisui, what happened?” Itachi asked, but he only got a garbled response that didn’t make any sense. It sounded like something about a woman and bearing her children. Itachi gave Shisui another shake, but got no response this time. Itachi tried to heave Shisui over to see where the blood was coming from. He did manage to get Shisui on his back, with the man’s head and shoulders in his lap. Someone had cut a three inch slice out of Shisui’s left arm. Also, there was dried blood on his face around his right eye. That alarmed Itachi more, but as he reached to feel, Shisui’s eye seemed to still be in its socket.

“They don’t seem to have followed him,” Kakashi closed the window firmly, then locked it. He pulled the curtains and turned to look down at Shisui, face perfectly blank.

And terrifying. What was he thinking? What would he make Itachi do? Itachi unconsciously wrapped his arms around Shisui’s shoulders and leaned forward a little. Shisui was obviously in trouble. He had come to _them_. They had to help him. Wasn’t that what they’d been aiming for? Kakashi wouldn’t change his mind, would he?

Shisui’s eyes opened just a crack. He tipped his head, smiled crookedly. He reached up with a weak hand and grabbed Itachi’s ponytail in an iron grip, then yanked it down. Itachi didn’t yelp, but the noise he managed to strangle was probably just as ridiculous. His forehead almost cracked into Shisui’s, and Shisui started _humming_. Itachi could feel Kakashi staring. Itachi reached up and tried to disentangle himself from Shisui.

“Perhaps we should move him before he bleeds on the floor and leaves a stain. The bathtub should be easiest to clean,” Kakashi mused. “Can you grab him under the arms?” Itachi took this as a good sign. Since Shisui seemed to be glued to Itachi anyway, he fumbled his arms under the other’s and, with Kakashi lifting Shisui’s legs, managed to hoist Shisui off the ground. Together, they moved Shisui into the bathroom. Shisui only twitched and held on tighter, still humming a nonsense tune. It wasn’t a Mist tune. The beat was too fast, jumping up and down in an erratic pattern. Mist’s music flowed smoothly like water or the tide.

“How are…how are we going to get him into the bathtub?” Itachi asked as Shisui’s fingers twisted tighter in his shirt.

“I will set my end down, and then you should be able to do the same. After that, we’ll see about getting you free,” The last bit caused a small creasing at the corner of Kakashi’s eye, and Itachi chose to ignore it. Fifteen minutes later, he was free of Shisui’s grabbing fingers, though Shisui now held his hand in a sleepy grip, looking between them as if he didn’t know them. Itachi had been worried before about the injury. Now he worried about Shisui’s mind. He didn’t have a concussion, which would most easily explain his symptoms. The cut could be poisoned, but it didn’t look like it on first glance. The other option, a very strange one, was his blood crusted eye.

“Can you sew up a wound?” Kakashi asked as he ambled for the door.

“Yes…” Itachi turned his head reluctantly to watch his partner, but his eyes slipped back to Shisui, just to make sure. Just to see. If he looked away too long, would Shisui stop breathing? His breathing looked steady enough now, just a little too fast, but would that change?

“That will work.” Kakashi nodded to himself and continued to talk as he walked deeper into the room. “I will stay in the main room, and you can stay with Shisui—preferably in the tub with him. Naturally, if they come looking for Shisui, I would like to be close by, but in such a way we can plead innocence if we need to…” The man’s voice trailed off into intelligible nonsense for a few seconds, but Itachi understood what their plan would be. He gripped Shisui’s hand a little tighter. He would only plead innocence if the other was dead.

The thought sent a nervous shock through him, and Itachi leaned forward to check Shisui’s pulse. Shisui’s eyes flickered—red to black to red ---before closing slowly. His pulse was strong but fast. Itachi licked his lips and looked Shisui over carefully for any other injuries. He’d started his second sweep when Kakashi appeared at the door with a small kit.

“I’m going to play the lovesick apprentice who snuck Shisui in without your knowledge,” Itachi said carefully as he took the kit. He wanted to be sure, and he knew he wasn’t at his best right now. He couldn’t be. Shisui…Shisui was hurt. Maybe dying. No, he wasn’t dying. Itachi had no reason to be so dramatic. He’d never been dramatic before. He’d seen people live with far worse injuries than Shisui had.

Kakashi nodded. “You play it so well. Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, the man closed the door. Itachi checked the kit and found all the basic wound care he would need. Then, Itachi climbed into the tub with Shisui. The tub was large, and they fit comfortably enough. The sides were high enough that he could scrunch Shisui low enough he might not be immediately visible from the door. For now, that could wait. For now, Itachi needed to get Shisui sewn up.

Itachi slowly undressed Shisui, being carefully not to move his injured arm, and making sure Shisui always had something to hold in his right hand. The sleeve out of the way, Itachi realized he could have just cut the sleeve off. He didn’t _have_ to undress Shisui. Flushing at his stupidity, Itachi started to clean the wound. It wasn’t bad. It did need to be stitched, but it wasn’t life threatening. Itachi had it quickly cleaned and knew Shisui wouldn’t be fighting fit for a while. Itachi used the chakra activated salve, numbed the wound with a quick shot, and set to work.

Shisui seemed to have fallen completely unconscious now, head lolled to the side, and his grasp on Itachi’s shirt had turned lax. His eyes fluttered open from time to time, but Shisui wasn’t behind the eyes that looked out. He wasn’t. Itachi just _knew_ it. He gently pushed the needle into Shisui’s flesh and tried not to think about how it would hurt him. It wouldn’t. Itachi had numbed him up, and Shisui would feel nothing.

It took only ten stitches to close the gaping wound. Itachi dressed it then packed away his tools, leaving him with a half-naked Shisui in a tub and almost orders to stay with him, just in case. Kakashi might be thinking of the scenario, but Itachi stayed because he didn’t want Shisui to take a turn for the worse when he wasn’t around. As Itachi leaned forward to rearrange his friend, Shisui eyes flew open. His right hand grabbed Itachi’s collar, yanking him down, and Shisui winced as he tried to move his other arm.

Itachi went still, bracing himself on the rim of the tub as he saw Shisui struggle to remain conscious. More than that, he seemed to be fighting for something more basic than consciousness.

“Itachi?” Shisui’s voice came out as a hoarse rasp. His hand started to go lax, and he looked panicked.

“It’s me. You’re safe Shisui, all right? We’ve got you safe,” Itachi promised. Shisui didn’t looks much comforted, and Itachi wondered if he even had the words that would calm Shisui’s frantic eyes.

“I’ll stay until you wake up. I won’t let anything happen,” Itachi promised as he put his hand over Shisui’s. “Just rest.” It might have been a ludicrous promise for anyone else, but Itachi felt capable of carrying it out. He would die before he failed, and, he suddenly realized, Shisui’s lineage had nothing to do with it.

Shisui’s lips twisted, or started to. Maybe he was going to frown, or smile, or speak, but he went limp again, eyes closed and hand releasing Itachi. Itachi still held Shisui’s hand and, gently, arranged the other into the tub where he wouldn’t be seen if the door opened. Itachi then curled himself into a position where he could see the door and keep a finger on the pulse of Shisui’s wrist.

~

After six hours, Itachi had probably passed into an enlightened state also known as a blood sugar crash. He should get up and get food. In fact, after stubbornly refusing to do that for five hours previous, he had tried. That was when he had almost passed out, knocked his head on the side of the tub, and decided that Kakashi would bring food when it was safe to come out.

Itachi, to his credit and pride, did not doze. He stayed fully awake, if not quite lucid until the door cracked open. Itachi grabbed the kunai stashed in the tub with him, and prepared to attack. When Kakashi came in, proceeded by a tray of food he relaxed and leaned back against the tub.

“Either they are waiting for me to leave, or your friend is fast enough he escaped them,” Kakashi offered as an update along with the tray of food. Itachi shifted forward and took the tray, which held some soup, bread, and a strange paste. “I informed the cook you weren’t feeling well. She thought this might cheer you up.”

“Thank you…” Itachi settled back in the tub and arranged the food so that it wouldn’t spill. “Or he injured them badly enough they can’t come after him.” Itachi also realized they were working under the assumption that the Mist-nin had gotten after Shisui. What if that wasn’t the case? It seemed obvious, but Shisui could have made hundreds of people mad enough to stab him. Even a civilian could get lucky enough once in a while.

“All of them might be a stretch.” As he sat on the counter across from the tub, Itachi wondered how he made everything sound like a statement _and_ a question.

“He’s good.” But four Hunter-nin good? Itachi had his doubts.

“I think that is the first vague statement I’ve ever heard from you.” Kakashi sounded amused, and Itachi felt suddenly flustered.

“He…he’s better than I am.” Itachi bit his lip. “I’m almost certain if he went all out, he could take me down. He keeps underestimating me, though. If he didn’t…hadn’t…” Then Itachi might be dead. Itachi realized that now. Before he’d been too naïve, but he’d seen what Shisui could do now. Also, he’d seen the vicious and brutal intent Shisui fought with. It was something as harsh as barren as the island itself.

“A dangerous individual.” Kakashi didn’t seem so certain, but had he seen Shisui move? Had he felt the power of Shisui’s hands on his neck? Had he shuddered under the press of Shisui’s genjutsu? Itachi had finally found someone better than he was, and it both terrified and fascinated him. He wanted to learn from Shisui. He wanted to know everything about how the other did what he did. He wanted…he wanted to be greater. He wanted to be like Shisui.

Flaming ash, he was infatuated, and it was going to make him so _stupid_.

“No.” Itachi took a bite of his bread, risking some spread after he decided the bread was coarse and bland. “No more than you or I.”

“We work for the same village,” Kakashi pointed out. “Loyalty is a great sheath for a weapon you have to carry.” Itachi glanced at Kakashi, perfect indifference and one of Konoha’s most vaunted ninja. Loyalty. Loyalty to what? To a village? The Hokage? A cause? A clan? The security and money that came from compliance with a village’s laws?

Itachi looked at Shisui, and he knew who he trusted more in this room. No, he knew who he loved more. Not Konoha. Not Kakashi. Some missing-nin of a distant cousin who had captured his imagination and so much more. It seemed like it should be a stunning revelation, but how would you define love? What did it mean, if it meant anything at all in the grand scheme of things?

Kakashi had a point. Shisui had no loyalty to tie himself to them or keep his sharp edges from cutting them. “I’ll be the sheath.” Itachi ignored Kakashi’s raised eyebrows. “There are many ways to keep someone’s interests in line with your own.”

“Like given ‘um whatever the hell they want,” A slurred voice interjected. Itachi almost jumped as he snapped his head around and saw Shisui peering at him. Shisui finally recognized him, and leered before reaching for Itachi.

“Like a pretty pillow.” Shisui’s right eye was red—the one that had been bleeding. Itachi had found no obvious trauma, but assumed the eye had been scratched or had something caustic thrown in it. He was also going to assume Shisui just might be concussed, though confusion seemed to be the only sign.

“Shisui, what happened?” Itachi asked, shifting closer in case Shisui should fall over. Shisui stayed slumped except for the reaching hand, which he let flop down onto his leg as Itachi didn’t respond.

“Got fucked,” Shisui shrugged his good shoulder. “Didn’t the birdie tell you?”

“I’m serious, Shisui, what happened?” Itachi glanced at Kakashi, but the man didn’t seem bothered or ready to leave. He’d gone blandly and politely blank again. Itachi began to get nervous.

Shisui sighed and slumped down farther. He winced and touched his arm above the cut. When his searching fingers hit the bandage, he gave Itachi a speculative look. “Took care of some trespassers. Weren’t as cute as you, so I’s slipped out the back.” Shisui grinned a little.

“How did you take care of them?” Itachi pressed.

“I got me away,” Shisui accent slipped a bit, then he came out talking in a dialect Itachi couldn’t even understand, his voice pitched a little lower, and his eyes tried to roll back into his skull. His head thumped against the back of the tub, and Itachi thought for a horrific moment Shisui might have a seizure.

“Shisui-san,” Kakashi’s voice made Shisui jerk. He jumped upright, clutching at his injured arm and looked around with wild eyes. Itachi could see the pulse jumping in his throat as he jerked his head around to find Kakashi. At the sight of the man, his eyes narrowed.

Kakashi continued, nonplussed. “Should I assume you’ve accepted our offer of asylum?”

Shisui glowered. “I’m not going to be some Uchiha bitch.” Shisui spat the words with such vehemence Itachi winced. Shisui ignored him pointedly, and Itachi dropped his eyes. He already knew Shisui was a liar.

“We’ll simply offer you a safe house until you feel it’s safe enough to move on—provided you continue to help us with this mission.” Kakashi didn’t glance at Itachi ever, and he felt like a child who had snuck into the adults meeting. He also felt intensely _jealous_ , which was stupid, but it didn’t change how he felt.

Shisui scoffed. “Why not? Not like I can get anything else down with this one mucking around and bringing disasters down on my head.” Shisui flicked a hand at Itachi.

“You think the Mist-nin followed Itachi to your place?” Kakashi asked.

“They came right after he left, didn’t they?” Shisui groused. “Doesn’t matter if they did or not. I can’t take a step without the pup being underfoot whining about something.”

“Then why not remove the problem?” Kakashi pressed, and Itachi wanted nothing more than to sink into the tub and through the floor.

Shisui laughed. “I ain’t stupid. Kill a baby Uchiha? I’d never hear the end of it. I’ll take your deal, but I get a safe house. No suprises, no Uchiha, nothing.”

Kakashi nodded. “That can be arranged.” Now Kakashi looked at Itachi. “Do you need a break?” Itachi, already declared sick, couldn’t do much except sit around outside, could he? Itachi shook his head.

“I can take another few hours.” Truthfully, he really wanted to get away from Shisui right now. Kakashi nodded, informing them he would be setting up traps just in case, but he was going to go to the apothecary to see if that would draw the Mist-nin out. Actually, it would be a clone. Kakashi would be waiting outside to see if anyone show interest in the clone’s leaving, but he would be close enough to trade places with the clone if needed.

Itachi nodded, Shisui sulled up in the tub and ignored them. He confirmed he’d killed none of the Mist-nin, and Kakashi took his leave. Itachi ate his food in silence, wishing Kakashi had brought up some tea as well. Dango wouldn’t have gone amiss right now either, come to think on it.

“Enough for two?” Shisui asked after about fifteen minutes of silence. Itachi glanced up sharply and got an affably sheepish look.

“What was that?” Itachi asked more shortly then he had intended. Shisui looked even more sheepish.

“My head’s killing me, and it’s better to vent then to let it build up and blow something out, okay?” Shisui leaned forward a little, reaching with a hand. “Guy had a problem with Uchiha, let me tell you.”

Itachi pushed himself back. “You don’t make sense.”

Shisui laughed. He pushed his body over, ending up in the same end of the tub as Itachi. He leaned his face into Itachi’s neck, tucking his nose right against the other’s hair line. Itachi froze. Moving risked spilling the soup. Shisui took a huge breath bad sighed it out slowly.

“Thank Amaterasu you don’t smell like her.” Before Itachi could ask what Shisui meant, his breathing had evened out and he slept.

~

Shisui woke again a few hours later after Kakashi had returned with more food. Itachi had a small break to stretch and relieve himself, but he was back in five minutes. Kakashi, perched on the sink, nodded as Itachi came back in. He tipped his head towards the tub, where Shisui glared out at him, then he walked out.

Itachi closed the door and stared at Shisui, who slowly shifted his gaze to Itachi. He shifted his shoulders a little, winced, but waggled a few fingers. “Anything ta eat?” His voice sounded more normal, less grating. Itachi still moved warily, nodding and offering Shisui the tray of cold food that had been brought up for him a while ago.

Shisui’s expression shifted, into what Itachi couldn’t say, but he tensed. “Not talking to me butterfly?” While Itachi blinked, Shisui winced and rubbed his hand over his face.

 

“Sorry.” Shisui took the food and did seem truly apologetic. Itachi supposed the offense wasn’t that bad. It was simply odd. As he huddled over the food, Itachi wondered what to say. He wasn’t mad at Shisui. He was only a bit surprised but what the other had said. Still, he had the feeling he wasn’t wanted around anymore, and maybe that did hurt a bit. Maybe it made him want to hand over watch duty to Kakahi, which he couldn’t do. Not yet.

“We haven’t seen any of the Mist-nin,” Itachi offered slowly. “They probably don’t know where you are.” Probably. They could just be waiting until tonight to avoid notice. The sun was setting, so they would know soon. Itachi had set traps around the bathroom, and he had five crows watching the town. He actually liked working with the crows. They were a challenge, but they were smart enough to actual work with pretty well. He was getting a better feel for their minds, and they might not help at all. The genjutsu might not hold well, but he wasn’t going to rely on them completely.

“Kaoru, Beshimi, and Aoshi…” Shisui listed the names automatically. His eyes glazed over, then he swallowed. “You want me to write out profiles? I can do that. Everything, including annoying little habits—gods and little fishes.” Shisui groaned and sank back into the bathtub. “I am so…so…”

“Yes, Shisui, what are you?” He was acting more oddly than normal. He was…Itachi didn’t even have a word for this.

Shisui shivered. “Overextended like you wouldn’t believe. Totally screwed myself big time here. Amazingly screwed up beyond repair, maybe. Head’s never been like this before. There’s not enough room. Oh tiny fishes and little _gods_ , this is only going to get worse, isn’t it?” Shisui looked at Itachi and almost tipped the tray on into the sink. Itachi jerked forward and grabbed it. Shisui grabbed him and pulled.

“You said you’d stay, didn’t you?” Shisui asked softly.

Itachi avoided looking Shisui in the eye. The quick glance he’s gotten was more than enough. He didn’t need to think too much about what Shisui was feeling right now. “I did. Are you feeling better?”

Shisui laughed weakly. “Not likely. Knock me back out, darling. Put me under and let my subconscious fight this one out while I have weirdly prophetic dreams filled with symbolism…” He gave Itachi a lopsided smile and poked his tongue out a bit.

Itachi considered the likely hood of Shisui being poisoned. The more he talked, the higher it seemed, but the wound didn’t look poisoned. “I know you’re not all right, but what can I do to help?” Assuming Shisui even recognized he wasn’t all right.

“Too late. Only thing to do know is wait it out, I think. Never had it this bad before, so we’ll see.” Shisui shrugged and tugged on Itachi’s wrist. “But, you could sit with me? A little? It helps.”

Itachi hesitated. “What does it help?”

Shisui smiled. “Me. Things. The jackass screaming off in my head. Everything. You are the balm of the gods, soothing to my soul. Your eyes are like tidal pools, filled with secrets—this is so corny.” Shisui dissolved into laughter, almost spilling the tray again. Itachi snatched it away and watched Shisui laugh, body twitching oddly and eyes half frantic. Itachi really had no idea how to handle this. What was he supposed to do? What should he say?

Itachi sat down in the bathtub, picked up the chopsticks from the tray, and gathered up a bite of rice and fish. “You’re insane—eat.”

With no hesitation, Shisui leaned forward and took a bite of the food. His hands continued to quiver, the very reason Itachi had decided this would be the better option. He didn’t think Shisui could stay focused long enough to eat anyway. He’s trail off every three bites and get lost in whatever was going on in his head.

“I think I wanted kids. Do you know how stupid that is? Ninja kids have sucky lives. Loved my mother to death, or until she died, but really? If you’re born to ninja parents, you are _done_. Your life will never be happy unless you suck at being a ninja, then you’ll be unhappy because you suck at being a ninja,” Shisui explained with suddenly bright eyes. “No, wait, my mother’s not dead. She is.”

“Eat,” Itachi prompted, and Shisui did.

“You know, your eyes are huge. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a China doll?” Shisui asked, leaning very close and squinting. “Or a girl. You look like a little doll girl.” The rest of the ramble was cut off by Itachi popping another mouthful in Shisui’s mouth. Shisui chewed, then he started off again. Itachi sighed and aimed. With a large bite he could keep Shisui silent for about five seconds.

“You know they didn’t follow me, Shisui.”

Shisui blinked and chewed. “Yeah, I know. Just venting—I told you that.” Shisui rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be so smart or something?”

“You were lying.” Itachi didn’t know if Kakashi believed him, but Itachi really couldn’t take any more questionable decisions. His entire handling of Shisui was obviously horrid. He was getting by on luck and he knew it. He was lucky Shisui liked him, and that he could figure a few things out about him.

“Why are you so offended?” Shisui asked. He swallowed hastily and choked a little. “I didn’t mean it, listen, I _told you_.”

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” Itachi protested. “Shisui, could you please—“

“Please, what? Do whatever you say? Follow your rules because you’re some wind tossed clanner? You think you own me ‘cause you’ve got a bloodline? You think you’re better cause you can use their little tricks?” Shisui asked sharply, suddenly anger in the flicker of a moment. Itachi almost gaped, and Shisui shifted aggressively forward. “You think you own me cause of some stupid tests and blood? You think you can tell me what to do?”

Flicker fast, Shisui’s hand fisted in Itachi’s collar. Itachi went still, ready to attack if Shisui should attack. Shisui didn’t move for a moment. He just breathed, eyes darting from point to point, hectic and suddenly lost. The anger drained out of him, and Shisui deflated.

“Tsukiyomi’s blood, this…gods Itachi, I…” Shisui flopped roughly to the side, sliding down the tub and ending up with his head on Itachi’s arm. With a fishlike wiggled, Shisui shoved his head under Itachi’s arm, groaning. “I don’t even know any more.”

Itachi shifted to keep Shisui’s hair out of his armpit and make them both a little more comfortable. “Shisui, what is going on?”

“I don’t know anymore. I really don’t know,” Shisui laughed weakly and huddled into Itachi’s side, shaking and starting to say things. He cut himself off after the second word. Fifteen minutes later, and Itachi decided that maybe he could get Shisui to eat more, he suddenly flung himself up, half upsetting the tray.

Shisui beamed. “Have you ever tried to catch the fire salamander’s in Iron? They’ll eat you up. I have a scar from on here—here…” Shisui looked at his hands and blinked. He wriggled his fingers, then flexed them one by one. His brow drew down in confusion.

“These aren’t my hands.” Shisui looked up sharply at Itachi. “What did you do with my hands?” As Itachi tried to explain, Shisui lunged, the food went flying, and Itachi discovered wrestling in a bathtub with someone who outweighed you by forty pounds was difficult.

~

“He’s asleep?” Kakashi asked. It was nearing midnight. Itachi cradled Shisui’s curly head against his chest, gently stroking it in case Shisui should have another nightmare. The last one had had him screaming at the top of his lungs and left Itachi furrows on his arms.

“I think so.” Shisui had faked it twice then tried to run once and accused Itachi of abandoning him when Itachi had slipped out of the tub. Of all the interesting new things Itachi had learned over the past few hours, how hard it was to urinate with someone watching was one of the more embarrassing.

“I see you have your shirt back on,” Kakashi observed mildly as he looked at Shisui.

“He wasn’t like this before, was he?” Itachi chose to ignore that comment. The bite mark on his shoulder still burned.

“I don’t believe so.” Kakashi offered Itachi a cup of something hot. Itachi took it one handed and sniffed before he sipped. Somehow, Kakashi had gotten the thick broth to just the right temperature to drink comfortably. Itachi appreciated it. More food had been spilled today than had been eaten.

“Have you discovered what could cause such a change?” Kakashi asked after a few moments silence. Itachi shook his head. Shisui had flipped back and forth on him all afternoon , which left Itachi feel rattled and almost frightened. What was happening to Shisui? What was Itachi going to do now? His informant, the one he’d argued for, seemed to be off his rocker. Actually, he seemed to have smashed his rocker, set it ablaze, laughing and crying in turns as he did so.

“We can wait a few days,” Kakashi allowed. Itachi relaxed only a little, wondering if Shisui would come out of it.

“If nothing else, we have a bargaining chip for the Mist-nin.”

Itachi tensed and slowly glanced at Kakashi, It was too dark to make out more than vague things about his face right now. Itachi shifted just a fraction, but he could see no signs of whether or not Kakashi was serious. “You promised him a safe house.”

“He won’t be much help to us as he is,” Kakashi pointed out. “Assuming he stays like this, I doubt any information he can give us will be accurate.”

“So he is degraded to a bargaining chip,” Itachi shifted Shisui’s head a bit, causing the other to twitch and murmur something. Itachi caught the words wind, sand, tide, and mother. Itachi gently drew his hand over Shisui’s curls, softly humming one of the tunes he’d learned from Shisui this afternoon.

“What other use could you find for him?”

Itachi curled his hands in Shisui’s coarse curls. What other use? What other use did Shisui have if he couldn’t tell them what they needed to know? What purpose would he serve?

None. None more useful than dragging Itachi’s time from the mission to his care. Itachi bit his lip and leaned his cheek against Shisui’s curls. The cup was empty. His mind felt cramped and over used.

“I’m tired.” Itachi could almost swear he heard Kakashi chuckle.

“I’ll keep watch tonight.”

Itachi nodded, already half asleep. The cup was plucked from his hand, and he slid down a little more into the tub. He couldn’t get up and go to his bed. If he woke Shisui, they might never get him to sleep again. Instead, Itachi made himself and comfortable as he could with a stranger in a bathtub and tried to sleep.

He found it oddly comfortable.


	9. Quiet Palms

_Watch out Cupid_  
 _Stuck me with a sickness_  
 _Pull your little arrows out_  
 _And let me live my life  
_ Sick Muse-Metric

* * *

 

When Sandaime had asked Kakashi to take this mission, Kakashi had almost refused. Kakashi had as little to do with Uchiha as possible. It wasn’t because every face reminded him of Obito, or that he didn’t like them, but the Uchiha had a certain attitude towards him. It started with Obito’s mother screaming at him for killing her child and stealing his eye (and trying to claw out said eye), and luckily improved from there. Not much, but they did improve. Fugaku was at least civil, though he looked like he’d like to throw Kakashi in jail for _something_.

Still, Kakashi tended to avoid the Uchiha and also avoided unnecessary confrontations with them and theirs. Things just went better when he didn’t try mixing with them. Also, Kakashi hated politics. They were messy. They killed good men. Uchiha were steeped in politics of the worst kind. As a rule, Kakashi played dumb and fluff whenever someone started in on politics and things of that ilk. Usually, it worked. He buried his nose in his orange book, and no one thought much else about him. He thought his white hair might help in that. People knew he wasn’t _old_ , but it helped with the overall image.

Sandaime, of course, knew better. He also knew Kakashi wouldn’t deny him anything. When he asked, Kakashi had still almost declined, knowing what acceptance would entail. He could think of thousands of excuses, and Sandaime might have let him back out of it.

Ultimately, what stopped Kakashi was the faded memory of Obito’s funeral. He’d been hiding best he could in the crowd that very peppy morning, listening to the memorial service for that month’s fallen and thinking someone ought to have done something about the sun. He’d only noticed the Uchiha by the fan emblazoned on their backs, and then he made the mistake of trying to pay his respects. After being screamed at by a crying woman, he’d learned something about human nature and how to keep a mask in place.

His head still aching, Kakashi had only been able to stare as the hysterical woman was ushered away by her family, all of whom shot Kakashi venomous looks. It was a small child that lingered. A tiny, tiny little child with wide eyes and a pink mouth pursed in thought. He had to be about five, though he carried himself like a small adult. The child had walked up to Kakashi, then bowed as properly and neatly as any in a daimyo’s court.

“Thank you for honoring Obito-nii’s memory.”

Simple words in a piping little voice, but Kakashi had remembered them. They had soothed him a little, but there was really no hope of consoling him fully. Obito was dead. Itachi, the little heir of the shrinking clan, had hurried away as his mother called his name and never glanced back. But, it was that memory Kakashi thought of when he thought of Itachi, not the various little snippets he’d seen of the child growing up and becoming the genius people hailed him as today.

With that memory in mind, Kakashi had agreed, and he had spent the next week watching Itachi go about his normal life. Much to his surprised, Itachi figured out he was being followed the morning of the second day—or Kakashi realized that the child knew he was being followed. Overall, little had changed. Itachi was still a rigidly polite child who carried himself like a small adult. He wasn’t blindly obedient, but, if given the choice, he always chose what was “right.”  Fastidiously polite, Itachi never responded with violence or harsh words. He had a temper. Kakashi had seen the flash of it in his face and eyes when someone else was slighted. If Itachi chose to hurt someone, he did it quickly and efficiently. In three words he could cut down clan members twice his age, and he could beat all but the best of his clan at twelve.

Kakashi wrote his initial report and then left Konoha, genius Uchiha child in tow.

And what did he find?

Itachi was just as perfect and precise as ever, and that would make an excellent ninja. Still, that bothered Kakashi. Itachi didn’t act much like a child, and he stumbled on human interaction that fell outside his rigidly structured norms. Kakashi had thought this undercover mission would give Itachi a chance to be more human and less ninja—a truly cruel choice, but this was something that would challenge the little heir. The genius.

All things considered, Kakashi could care less if the mission blew up on them. It was a silly squabble chosen because it didn’t matter. Kakashi wasn’t cruel enough to throw Itachi into a situation he would flounder in where his floundering could be dangerous. All that mattered was they not die, and Kakashi didn’t see how either of them could—until Shisui and the Mist-nin.

Ah, Shisui.

The silver tongued, wickedly bright contact they’d made the mistake of promising more than he wanted. Kakashi had felt reservations when he’d first seen Shisui chatting with Itachi. Shisui had obviously been keenly interested in the child, and Kakashi had realized, as he watched them, that Itachi’s childish features could to some be “pretty.” That was one trouble Kakashi knew Itachi had no experience with. The villagers didn’t refer to Shisui as their trickster spirit for his wide smiles and off kilter eyes, and anyone could see their was mischief and malice in the boy’s face. One of the women selling charms had grabbed Kakashi’s arm and told him to “Watch that one. Keep your boy safe.” Kakashi, seeing Itachi’s flustered discomfort with the other boy, had assumed that Shisui would pose Itachi no problems. Itachi would be too discomforted to spend much time around Shisui, and he would be on his guard whenever he was around Shisui.

“No, Shi—please just sit d _aaaaaah_!”

Kakashi had missed something there.

Kakashi, sitting at the table, knew he should be trying to help Itachi, but, honestly, he had turned the handling of their contact over to Itachi fully, and he didn’t like to take over what he’d already handed over. This would be a good learning experience for Itachi. Whether he would learn how to handle difficult contacts or when to not invest so much in one had yet to be seen.

“Oh—flaming---SHISUI!”

Kakashi sipped his tea and contemplated this. The very girlish shriek did have him looking over in concern, but he decided he would continue to contemplate the actions that had brought him here, waiting for Mist-nin to descend on them and letting a twelve year-old handle a psychotic contact.

Such was the life of Konoha’s Copy-nin.

“Shisui. If you don’t get off of me, I will castrate you. I am not kidding.” Itachi grated out the words, as frazzled and frustrated as Kakashi had ever seen him. Kakashi counted this as a very good thing.

Shisui pinned Itachi’s shoulders to the ground, sitting on Itachi’s hips, with his shins over Itachi’s thighs. If Itachi’s hands hadn’t been free, it would have been a perfect hold. Itachi, after getting a finger bitten, another almost broken, and thrown across a room, had stopped trying to fight off Shisui when he went like this.

If he ever recovered, the most valuable thing that happened on this mission might be Shisui. Kakashi hadn’t expected to find an actual Uchiha bastard running loose, and it seemed he was stronger, or as strong as, Itachi. Their genjutsu skills were equal. He would, of course, be a useful asset to Konoha whether or not he chose to join the village, but the Uchiha would throw a fit if they found out a bastard was allowed to go free. A freelance contact like him could be invaluable, _if_ he was stable. At the moment, he was anything but.

“Where did you hide my shit, bitch?” Shisui snarled. His face twisted, and he suddenly went for Itachi’s throat. Kakashi stayed still, but Itachi bucked Shisui loose, then kicked Shisui hard enough in the gut to send him flying off. Then Itachi scrambled and pinned Shisui, almost getting his nose bashed in.

As the two grappled, Kakashi realized Itachi probably had little experience fighting like this. While Shisui was violent at times, he had yet to prove really murderous. Not yet. Not towards Itachi, and that was why Kakashi was sitting back and watching. When he’d tried to help, the results had been five almost deaths and some stitches for Kakashi, and Shisui had spent the next hour screaming at Itachi. Now Kakashi just sat back and watched.

“OW!” Itachi yelped. Shisui was trying bite himself free of the bear hug the younger had gotten him into. After about five minutes of struggling, Shisui quieted, looking around as if he might have an idea of where he was. Maybe. He gave Kakashi a wary look and shrank back into Itachi, clutching his arms instead of pushing him away. Itachi relaxed a little as well, then Shisui wrenched Itachi’s wrist and darted free.

“Flaming ash,” Itachi hissed, then translocated on top of Shisui, crashing them both to the ground. Shisui rolled on top of Itachi, kneed him in the gut, and kicked Itachi across the floor. Itachi scrambled to his feet and pounced again.

Kakashi doubted anyone had ever put Itachi through so much trouble. As the boy went tumbling off again, Shisui took off for the bathroom, Itachi right behind him and grimmer than Death. Yes, Kakashi decided as the two careened off, Shisui was good for Itachi.

He’d been a bit concerned when he’d first realized what was going on. Itachi had been, within the first few days, enamored of Shisui. Kakashi hadn’t really seen the harm in it, but he’d watched carefully. It wasn’t until the two had tried to kill each other Kakashi had started getting concerned. An attraction to a random civilian would be fine—easily severed. Itachi knew his business.

Or, Kakashi had thought so. Itachi still thought he knew his business, and he was partially right. Shisui could help them, but they also should have cut him loose long ago. If the mission had been any more important, Kakashi might have, but, this was Itachi’s mission to make or break. This was his contact to keep or cut.

His friend to make or kill.

Whether or not Itachi realized it or not, Kakashi did. Something magnetic had happened between the two. Watching things evolve, Kakashi had become certain Shisui felt it as well, but he’d known what he felt more than Itachi had. He’d fought it. He’d know the danger, and Itachi hadn’t realized how deep he was in until the current had already dragged him under and drowned him to sense and reason.

Kakashi realized the bathroom had gone quiet. He stood and silently crept across the floor. He eased his way into the bathroom, hoping they hadn’t both bashed their heads in or escaped out the window. Instead Kakashi found them in the bathtub, Shisui pressed into Itachi’s shoulder, clutching the other as if he was his only life line. Kakashi couldn’t hear the words that ran from Shisui’s mouth, faster than the island’s little streams, but he could guess at the content. Itachi’s eyes were dark, his young face troubled as he gently tried to wedge assurance in between the waves of choked words.

Itachi glanced up at Kakashi, his face pinched war tight with worry. He asked a question with child’s eyes Kakashi couldn’t answer, and he knew it. Itachi turned his eyes away as Shisui raised his face from Itachi’s shoulder, and Itachi ran a gentle hand down the back of Shisui’s head, palm rubbing over his ear. Shisui grabbed Itachi’s wrists and shove Itachi’s hands over his ears.

“Make them _STOP._ Devils and fishes, Ita….make them stop. Please, please, make them…” The words trailed off into a tight lipped whimper.

Itachi looked like someone had stabbed him. He pressed his hands to Shisui’s ears and leaned his head on Shisui’s. Kakashi tactfully withdrew.

~

“Come look at the map, Shisui,” Itachi suggested as he and Kakashi poured over the map of the island Kakashi had managed to find. Neither of them thought the coves were properly marked. Kakashi had been shocked to find a map this good at all, but he hadn’t expected it to be accurate. A place like this wasn’t really kind to visitors, even when they brought money. Visitors were supposed to stay in the village confines, not go wandering into sacred places like coves and landing ports. They might anger some god or goddess or, worse, a demon.

Shisui sat crammed in the window, ignoring them as he had been for the past five hours. Itachi had tried any number of things to get his attention, but Shisui remained a sullen lump on the window sill.

Itachi puffed out his cheeks a little and scowled like a petulant toddler. Kakashi decided to blame the boy’s current lack of sleep and think nothing else of it.  Itachi pushed a thick swathe of bangs back behind his ear and leaned forward to peer at the map in front of them.

“What about this harbor?” Itachi asked.

“The question is, why not any harbor? We don’t know.” And the man who did know was sulking in the window. Or, perhaps it wasn’t a sulk. Kakashi actually wouldn’t venture to assign any emotion or motive to Shisui right now. Last time he’d thought Shisui was pleased to see him, his tea cup had been coated with poison.

“We have to choose something,” Itachi gestured to the map and then frowned. The frown smoothed and, after a few moments, Itachi began to hum. Kakashi raised an eyebrow, but Itachi kept his eyes steadfastly on the map and hummed, obviously embarrassed because his cheeks were pinking. After five minutes of this, Shisui moved. His head creaked around, dark eyes suddenly bright.

Shisui came off the windowsill arms first, slinking down, then sliding a foot between his hands and pushing himself up to his feet. In a spiraling manner, Shisui made his way over to Itachi, stopping behind Itachi and pressed a foot to his back. Itachi ignored him, and Shisui dropped down like a descending rapture, clamping a hand over Itachi’s mouth.

“Stop it,” Shisui growled.  Even as his head was cranked back, Itachi’d expression didn’t change. He simply reached up and pried Shisui’s fingers from his mouth, which ended in them clenched around his own fingers. In a quick move, Itachi had Shisui’s arm snugged under his, and he leaned forward, pulling Shisui forward with him. Shisui rose onto his knees and leaned against Itachi heavily, but Itachi didn’t even waver.

“Someone’s going to land and take over the island. Where are they going to land, Shisui?” Itachi asked. Shisui tugged at his arm one or twice, but gave up and leaned his chin on Itachi’s shoulder so that it would dig in. Itachi continued to ignore and waited. Shisui twitched and shifted around until Itachi pinched him between his thumb and pointer finger, then started humming again.

“Fishtide cove, but you have to sacrifice a _virgin_ to use it,” Shisui clipped the words oddly, stabbing a finger at the map, then snapping at Itachi’s ear. Itachi shoved and elbow into Shisui and slid himself away.

“Can you lead boats in safely that way?” Itachi pressed. Shisui paused, face shuttering, like someone snuffing a candle. Itachi started humming and, after a few moments before the shutters creaked open again, Shisui glared.

“Yeah, gotta contact,” He grinned, bare and bitter as bile. “Fancy that. Contact of a contact of a contact of a contact of a contact…”

Itachi ignored the repetition and touched the point on the map. “That is the cove we will use.” Kakashi nodded, and wondered if the contact of their contact would deal with them, or if a contact babbling off his head could contact anyone.

Perhaps it was time for some fresh air and a cup of tea.

~

“I’m going to send a message to our employer. The traps are set,” Kakashi spoke softly. Itachi’s newest way of keeping Shisui calm and not screaming was brushing Itachi’s hair. Shisui did this with great concentration and shaking hands. His injured arm moved slowly, but it was healing faster than Kakashi had hoped it would.

Itachi nodded, solemnly _not_ worried about any of this anymore. He winced as Shisui tugged too hard on a strand of hair, and Shisui muttered an apology. He blinked for a moment, glanced at Kakashi, then glanced back down at his hands. The strands started to run through his fingers, and Shisui scrambled to hold them tighter.

“We’ll be fine until you return,” Itachi assured him, his face still mottled from Shisui’s violence and bags under his eyes from not sleeping well for the past few nights. Shisui leaned his head against Itachi’s back and went still. Itachi’s face only flickered slightly—exasperation, anxiety, the desire to leap up and scream. Kakashi guessed on the last one, but Itachi’s jaw worked tight before he made a quick hand motion to dismiss Kakashi.

Kakashi set one final trap on his way out the door and set out as Kaika, the perfectly unassuming, rather lecherous old man who didn’t really love his job but had no other skills. Most of Kakashi’s disguises involved lechery. People thought to little of anyone given to it, so they would overlook a lot about someone if they assumed lechery motivated him.

It also meant fewer people tried to read over his shoulder. He hated that little habit. People shouldn’t be so nosy about other people’s reading habits. Books should be private.

Kakashi wandered his way out of the inn, grumbling about his sick apprentice and his idiocy. Since Itachi was much loved by the kitchen staff, Kakashi was dutifully ignored. He rather liked that. He also liked, in some ways, having a young rather charming partner that could, without even trying, make anyone female and over the age of twenty-five love him and wish the best for him. As Kakashi made his way out of the inn, he tucked his scarf in a little better. Having the lower half of his face exposed always made him feel naked now. In fact, he could probably walk down a street naked as long as he face was covered and be less self-conscious then walk with his face exposed.

Kakashi pondered this very strange fact and let his shambling walk take him out of the village. The hour was one of the odd ones that had the village caught in a lull. Kakashi passed out of it with only a few terse comments about the weather, how Itachi was, and what the fishing forecast would be. This town really did run on fish.

Were it not for the Mist-nin, Kakashi would have run as soon as he was outside of the village. Since they were about (supposedly), Kakashi kept walking, making the winding way down to the little hut where he should be able to find a pigeon and a message from their employer. Someone on the island had to be acting as a contact, but Kakashi had yet to figure out whom. He suspected it was one of the palace staff, but he could guess no more than that. He could have found out, but it wasn’t something that needed to be done to get this job done.

As Kakashi turned by the gnarled little tree and headed for the small shack, he didn’t pause. He didn’t slow. He simply kept walking and opened the door as if he suspected nothing.

Then, when someone in the corner moved, Kakashi moved faster, knives going in opposite directions to pin a sleeve and almost a neck to the wooden walls. The almost came because Kakashi recognized the face in the shadows, and it wasn’t someone that he would want to kill. Perhaps in a few desperate fantasies, but not in the flesh.

“Maa, Kakashi-kun, that was uncalled for.” Genma didn’t even look concerned, his eyes still as lazy as always. Kakashi smelled old blood on the man and glanced back to the presence he felt behind him. Of course, Naimashi Raidou and Shiranui Genma had been partners since before Kakashi could remember, and they would probably continue to work together until one of them died. Some pairs worked like that. Kakashi preferred to rotate his partners. It kept him from getting used to them, and he would rather not do that again.

“If you stabbed him again, kid…” Raidou’s rough voice sounded rougher than usual, and Kakashi didn’t take offense. He was younger. It also showed how exhausted these two must be that Kakashi would warrant “kid.”

“Can I ask what you’re doing here?” Kakashi sheathed his weapons and turned so that he could see them both. Raidou’s scarred face twisted into a grimace, and Genma shrugged, tugging the knives from the wood.

“We need a safe place to lay low for a night,” Genma explained. Since the shrug was onesided, Kakashi could guess why.

“Just a night?” Kakashi pressed as he moved to see if his pigeon was still around, or if Genma and Raidou had scared off the delivery rat. The pigeon was there, as was a scroll from their employer. Kakashi tucked the scroll away and pulled the bird’s cage to himself.

“We should be able to slip past the sniffers if we just have a night to get behind them and rest,” Genma offered in further explanation.

“And it has nothing to do with my mission,” Kakashi’s mission was hardly a secret in ANBU. By now, everyone knew what was going on with Itachi, and anyone could guess who had been sent to deal with the boy. The location, however…

“How did you know?”

“We stopped by Lie’s on the way over. She said you’d been through and told us a direction,” Raidou explained over Genma’s smirk. “We figured this place would be far enough out of the way we could lay low.”

“And take back some reports?” Kakashi asked with a raised eyebrow. He carried his pigeon to a window and set it free. The little bird lofted easily into the air, then beat its wings against the sky before soaring off. Kakashi watched it, just in case it should have some hideous accident. There was nothing quite as depressing as watching your messenger bird get struck down by a hawk.

“Well, if you have any to send…” Genma smiled lazily, senbon clacking against his teeth. “How’s it going anyway?”

“Itachi-kun is much like I expected,” Kakashi replied. He looked the two men over. “We should approach the village from the south. There are some Mist-nin around, and I’d like to avoid suspicion.”

“Mist-nin?” Raidou’s brow rose. “I thought this was supposed to be an easy mission.”

Kakashi smiled wanly. “It seems nothing with Uchiha is ever simple.”

~

It wasn’t a question of whether or not Kakashi would give Raidou and Genma a place to hide for the night. He had to. He would never again leave a comrade in danger when he could help it. He also set up transportation for them in the morning, and then explained them away as his co-workers, come to pick up maps and samples.

Genma came as his superior, and Raidou hulked behind as a bodyguard. With his scar, he could really be nothing else. Kakashi left them haggling about a room and went to secure a double dose of dinner for them all. Kakashi then went upstairs to warn Itachi about what was going on. When he opened the door, he didn’t see anyone. A quick check of the bathroom proved there was no one there either. Kakashi came back into the main room, getting slightly worried as he looked around and wondered where they had gone. Had Shisui successfully escaped?

Kakashi paused as he heard a noise. He walked back to Itachi’s bed and peered under it. He was met by red eyes, and Shisui regarded Kakashi with _extreme_ distrust that bordered on almost murderous contemplation.

“Having a good rest?” Kakashi asked. Shisui had Itachi’s face pressed to his chest. Itachi seemed sound asleep, and Kakashi wondered if he’d been drugged. He’d never seen the other nin sleep _that_ soundly. He didn’t even stir at the sound of Kakashi’s voice, but as Shisui tugged him closer, Itachi murmured something. His hair had been braided back intricately from what Kakashi could tell. The braid looked oddly close to a wedding brain from Grass. Shisui’s hands seemed to have recovered from their shakes somewhat as they cradled Itachi’s body.

“You can’t have him,” Shisui almost growled.

“I didn’t say I wanted him,” Kakashi protested, head still upside down to see Shisui.

“Then why do you keep coming back and bothering us?” Shisui asked. Kakashi thought that he probably shouldn’t be meeting Shisui’s red eyes, but it seemed too late to look away _now_.

“I suppose it’s because I was asked to watch out for him.” Kakashi smiled. “And I don’t trust you as much as he does.” Shisui’s glare doubled, but this time, his movement caused Itachi to stir. Shisui glanced down, then jerked his head back up to look at Kakashi.

“He likes me more than he likes _you_ anyway,” Shisui protested, childishly proud of this fact.

Kakashi nodded. “I know that, but what we like isn’t always good for us. You know how much you could end up hurting him.”

Shisui’s hand curled around the back of Itachi’s skull, and Kakashi could see Itachi was starting to really wake up now. _Had_ he been drugged? His response time was very slow. Kakashi wouldn’t put it past Shisui. Shisui scowled. “Not on purpose. Only because they told me too.”

Kakashi felt a flicker of alarm. “Who told you to?”

“Higher-ups. Wanted to make it all look convincing. I doubled back when they weren’t looking and helped her out,” Shisui smiled, pleased with himself. “See, I care. I take care of her. I’d be a good father, and we could make a family.”

. . .

Well…that wasn’t what Kakashi had been expecting. Itachi was definitely awake now, and he pushed away from Shisui’s chest, peering out from under the bed. His eyes flashed wide, sleep muddle drifting away as he tried to scramble out of Shisui’s hold.

“Kakashi-san?” Itachi slithered half out from under the bed, but judging from the tension on his shirt, Shisui still had a firm hold.

“I’m glad to see Shisui is feeling better.” Kakashi smiled and Itachi grimaced before a very rude sound followed from under the bed, and Kakashi was privileged to see Itachi fall down in a spasm. A true spasm . Kakashi decided few people had ever seen the Uchiha heir spasming on the ground because someone had blown a raspberry on his stomach.

Itachi managed to crawl out from under the bed fully, cheeks pink and looking completely humiliated. Kakashi thought it was good for Itachi to be subjected to such indignities. He was far too uptight about everything in general. He needed to learn to be flexible and take himself less seriously. Shisui might be a cruel way to make that happen, but he was making it happen. Slowly but surely, the bastard was wearing down the heir. It seemed ironically fitting.

“Kakashi-san, why is there so much food?” Itachi asked slowly, shooting the man a merely curious look.

“I’ve invited some friends to dinner,” Kakashi explained solemnly. Itachi frowned now, turning to look at the bed. Shisui was still hidden under it, and Kakashi opened his mouth to explain further. It was then someone knocked and stepped in. Genma and Raidou filed neatly in, dropping character as they walked through the door. They were obviously ninja.

“Genma-sensei?” Itachi shot a glance at Raidou, who nodded his head.

“Itachi-kun, thought we’d drop in and see how things were going,” Genma smiled and Itachi’s eyes suddenly flashed wide. He whirled and leapt for the bed, but Kakashi saw the dark figure dashing out from under it first. Calmly, Kakashi stuck out a foot, chakra quick, and Shisui crashed to the floor, swearing like a wet cat. Seconds later, Itachi had pounced on him, knees on Shisui’s hips and hands grabbing for a decent hold of some kind.

“I think I forgot to mention the contact we’re harboring seems to be suffering from a mental break. Itachi is handling it,” Kakashi explained to the surprised looking Genma (which meant his brows had risen a fraction) and Raidou. Raidou looked like he might want to step in and give the boy a hand. As Kakashi spoke, Itachi went flying off, thumping and skidding on the floor as Shisui jumped up. Kakashi was glad for the sound barriers they’d set up.

Itachi flipped to his feet with the grace of a dancer. He twisted on his heel, lunging for a place Shisui definitely wasn’t before Shisui was suddenly _there_ , and Itachi’s sweeping kick knocked the other off balance. Shisui fell back against the wall and tried to kick Itachi in the gut. Itachi jumped over it, sticking both hands to the wall with chakra and swinging a knee into Shisui’s chest. Shisui diverting the blow to his shoulder, dropped down, barely missed Itachi dropping on his head and dashed for the window.

Kakashi pulled his eyepatch off and watched what Shisui did this time. To his normal eye, the boy blurred. He could see the vague suggestions of chakra and intent, but nothing more than that. His gaze flickered to Itachi, and he could swear he saw a mirror image. Itachi’s chakra was just a fraction off from Shisui’s. It didn’t move so quickly. It didn’t bend with the purely fluid motion. It burned and crackled and licked at his chakra network, not as efficient or effective, but Itachi was in the window at the same time as Shisui.

They crashed together, landing in a tangled heap on the floor. Shisui immediately began thrashing and swearing, running the words together and over each other in such a way that Kakashi couldn’t understand what was being said. The mash of accents didn’t help, but last words that rose into a screaming shriek did make themselves known.

“Fishgutted fucking KONOHA-NIN AFTER ME!”

At this point, Itachi suddenly gained control and shoved Shisui back into the floor with his hold on Shisui’s wrist. “Will you shut up and listen to me!”

Kakashi had never heard Itachi raise his voice, and he was surprised by the volume and force of it. Shisui paused for a moment, stunned. His lip was bleeding, as was his nose. He stared at Itachi, eyes red and wild. Kakashi waited to see if he would try to run again. Genma and Radiou were poised behind him, and they probably wouldn’t let Itachi handle this on his own any longer.

“You made them start again. Those waved drowned…” Shisui’s words trailed off, and he tried to buck Itachi off. “Brought ‘em ‘ere ye did, after yah said, after yah promised _me…_ ”

“I haven’t broken one promise I made to _you_.” Itachi insisted. Shisui looked uncertain, and he looked like he was going to fight again. Itachi tightened his hold for a moment, his lips twisting before he lowered his head.

“Do you trust me or not?” Itachi asked. Kakashi had been waiting for an eloquent argument or something more than that. Asking a contact if they trusted you was laughable, especially one as off his head as Shisui.

To Kakashi’s surprise, Shisui stopped. He looked at Itachi and his eyes bled down to brown, though they stayed frantic. His chest heaved still, and nothing in his posture shifted. Itachi’s hands shifted, his hold now more comforting than restraining. Something happened. Kakashi couldn’t see Itachi’s face, but he saw something relax in Shisui. Slowly, by inches, Itachi let Shisui sit, then, with all the care in the world, he pulled Shisui’s head to his shoulder, placed his hands over Shisui’s ear, and started to hum.

~

Dinner turned out to be a very silent affair. Kakashi tended to Genma’s wounds with Raidou’s help and restocked their pain medication. He doubted he and Itachi would need it. Hopefully not. Then again…

Kakashi could always buy more if he needed to. They were in a stable location, but Genma and Raidou had another week or running on their plates. When it came to helping out comrades, Kakashi could be generous to a fault, but he knew better than to put Itachi in too much danger. That, and Kakashi didn’t want to deal with a twelve year-old in pain. He wasn’t good with children.

As they ate, Kakashi placed a small scroll on the table between them. Genma passed Kakashi one and tucked the little scroll in a pocket. “Unsealed?” Genma gave Kakashi a questioning look.

Kakashi smiled. “It’s in code. If you get bored, feel free to read it.”

“No thanks, I’ve tried to decipher that drivel, and I don’t know how Sandiame-sama does it,” Genma grumbled. While Kakashi fully intended to give his full report in person to the Hokage, he also acted on a long time caution with the partial report in code to the Hokage. The update would be appreciated, and Kakashi was certain some message would be covertly passed to the Uchiha to assure the Itachi was alive as well. Most inductee’s families would not be so notified, but they were the Uchiha and Itachi was their heir.

He was also suddenly stalking from the bathroom, looking furious. That translated to a snapping fire in his eyes, much like his chakra, and a haughty up tip to his chin.

“What were you thinking, bringing them here without giving me a warning,” Itachi asked, voice a perfect miniature of his father’s in full dressing down.

“I did tell you we were having friends,” Kakashi offered vaguely, slipping back behind the sleepy mask of a man unconcerned with the world. Itachi noticed, and it kicked his frustration up higher. It also reined in the fire, and Itachi’s anger clamped down dangerous cold and precise. Good, he had control.

“That was in no way sufficient warning of anything. You _know_ he’s not stable, and I had _just_ gotten him calmed down and certain of who he was! You should have given me time to explain to him what was going to happen.” Itachi demanded as if he had every right to demand such things of a man eight years his senior.

“Genma and Raidou were the ones who just came in,” Kakashi pointed out. As Itachi glanced at the two, Genma held up a hand.

“Hey, I broke a stitch and we needed cover before I started bleeding through my pants. There was someone coming down the hall,” Genma protested. Kakashi could almost swear the man was amused. Raidou was.

“It should have been handled better,” Itachi asserted, giving them all a cold look that said he thought they were all fools and then some.  Itachi moved to get some food, and Genma flashed a hand sign at Kakashi.

_Captain_.

Kakashi agreed, but who would take orders from a twelve year-old Uchiha?

“Shisui doesn’t know who he is anymore?” Kakashi asked. Itachi paused a moment in gathering some squid and then shook his head.

“It’s something…I think it’s genjutsu backlash. His memories are mixed with other people’s, and his mind can’t tell which are his and which are not. Even if they don’t make sense all together, it seems to be trying to incorporate all of them, pulling them out in response to situations that mirror those in the memories. Even when he think he’s Shisui, it’s a fluid thing and he can slip out of it much faster than I can lure him into it…” Itachi explained, anger burning away into worry as his brow creased.

“Never heard of anything like that happening before,” Genma murmured, looking to Raidou. Raidou shrugged.

“It…” Itachi paused. “It’s something to do with a special genjutsu he’s perfected.”

“Does it have something to do with his eyes?” Kakashi asked. Shisui had shown up with a bleeding eye that had no obvious trauma. The redness had faded, and Shisui’s sight didn’t seem to be impaired.

Itachi shook his head. “I don’t know.” Kakashi wondered if that was true, or if Itachi simply didn’t want to share the secrets of his clan with them.

“How long will it take for him to come out of the backlash?” Raidou asked.

“Hours, months, never,” Itachi shrugged. “I don’t know enough diagnostic jutsu to tell, and this is a bit different than anything I’ve ever heard about…” Itachi bit his lower lip for just a moment, then recaptured composure. “Please take care of yourself, Genma-san,” Itachi added as he grabbed two cups and balanced them on a tray with the food. “You as well, Raidou-san.”

“No sensei, Itachi-kun?” Genma asked, half playful.

Itachi flickered a smile. “I graduated your care a long time ago, sensei.” With that, Itachi turned to leave. Kakashi noted someone had rebraided his hair. Kakashi watched the very careful steps that wouldn’t slosh or spill anything and then glanced back at his dinner compatriots.

“He’s different,” Raidous observed. Genma nodded, face serious as he reached for a senbon to pop into his mouth.

“Not just that he’s older, either,” Genma added. There was a soft greeting from the bathroom, and they paused to listen to the indistinct murmur of words. One voice pitched childishly high. Kakashi listened until someone laughed, then looked back to the table.

“He is a very old twelve,” Kakashi observed before pouring himself some sake. Genma’s lips tipped up.

“War kids—they’re an old _anything_ ,” Genma chuckled bitterly and elbowed Raidou. “At least I have you to keep me young.” Raidou sighed.

“And you to make me twice as old for every year,” The man groused with a forlorn look. It didn’t sit well with the twist of the scar on his face, and Genma laughed. Kakashi had always found it slightly painful to be around these two. They had been friends for years, and you could see it in their easy companionship. Their friendship was old and worn, like a good book or favorite corner of a chair or bed.  Kakashi envied them. He looked at them and wondered if that could have been himself and Obito. What kind of person would he have been if Obito had lived?

Better, he didn’t doubt that.

Maybe that was why he let Itachi beat his head against the wall that was Shisui. Maybe that was why he didn’t mind wasting time on a volatile, crazed contact they could manage without.

If the little lonely Uchiha heir could find the friend he needed, Kakashi would count it all worth it.

 


	10. Wet Feet

_I'm looking for a place to start,  
But everything feels so different now.  
Just grab a hold of my hand,  
I will lead you through this wonderland.  
_ _Water up to my knees,  
_ _But sharks are swimming in the sea.  
_ _Just follow my yellow light,  
_ _And ignore all those big warning signs._

_Somewhere deep in the dark,_   
_A howling beast hears us talk,_   
_I dare you to close your eyes._

Yellow Light-Of Monster and Men

* * *

 

The ear was warm and pink, curved like a shell waiting for its treasures to be dipped out. The gentle rasp of a calloused finger on the ridges blended with the soft sound of breathing. The gentle, luxurious in and out of oxygen pulled into the lungs that leant the ear its pink tint and gave the body life. Slowly, large eyes fluttered, the precursor to waking from heavy, heavy sleep. Dark, thick, soot lashes brushed the golden skin of a cheek, and a pink mouth crossed with red twisted a bit, frowning, moving, opening for a soft exhalation as the eyes opened again, sleepy and content. And tired. Oh so tired.

Shisui leaned forward and placed his lips by Itachi’s ears. He felt the boy’s body stiffen, and when he pulled back, Itachi’s face showed no signs of fatigue.  His eyes were bright, and he was ready. Shisui moved first, sliding out from under the bed into a stiff crouch. He stretched himself out slowly, cracking his back in places and popping his shoulder. The wound was partially healed, but it still burned with the pulling of Shisui’s muscles. Shisui rolled to his feet and Itachi emerged after him. In silent motions and gestures, Shisui conveyed what he wanted. Itachi eyed him warily, then padded to his feet and across the room.     

In seconds they were both dressed. Shisui led the way to the door and heard the rustle of cloth. He turned his head and caught Kakashi looking at them, half risen from the bed. Itachi made a quick hand motion that was partially blocked by his body, and Kakashi lay back down. Shisui vanished out the door, and Itachi locked it behind them, tying his cloak on as they went.

Shisui took them through a storeroom window, then down damp back alleys. It wasn’t even dawn yet, and Itachi followed on silent cat feet with red eyes that almost glowed. If Shisui were in the mood, he’d think Itachi’s eyes were brighter than his own. They held a deadly clarity that sucked you in and made you realize things about yourself that you’d never even come close to contemplating before. Those were true Uchiha eyes, not the muddied half breed version. Shisui wasn’t in the mood, and as soon as they hit the edge of the town, he flickered.

Not far. He paused a listened. Itachi dropped into existence a foot from him. Shisui flashed him a smile and then took off in a great bounding leap over the landscape, his sandals skittering and sliding about on the damp stone. It had rained last night, and the air was rank with the smell of the sea and low tide. Shisui gulped it in as he pushed chakra into his legs and ran. Jumped. Flew. He didn’t flicker, and he felt Itachi right behind him—shadowing him every step of the way. He was dropping back, of course. His legs were shorter. He wasn’t as certain of his footing. For a moment, Shisui thought he might lose his little shadow.

Then Itachi sped up. He threw himself into the leaps and bounds with the same wild abandon Shisui did, trusting his companion’s choices in the foggy pre-dawn murk. Shisui laughed—a wild cackle at the stupidity of fools who trusted mad men, and they descended to the sea at a break neck pace sure to have hair turning white and teeth set in a grimace to meet death.

As soon as they hit the water, Shisui turned on Itachi and laid him out with a kick to the gut.

Itachi hit the water with a wet “splat.” As Itachi rose up, he dodged Shisui’s grand finishing move. He swung around and punched Shisui squarely in the kidneys, dancing away as Shisui came around to retaliate. He was faster than Shisui remembered, snapping his chakra in a way Shisui found vaguely familiar.

They crashed together again, blocking and striking. Itachi flipped over his head, face fixed in a grim look. Shisui’s face twisted into a wide smile as Itachi landed a stinging blow to his cheek and split his lip. Kid was good. Kid moved well too, each step and motion well used. Pretty too, with his braid snapping out behind him. Deadly and gorgeous. What a combination.

Itachi barely blocked the knife strike aimed at his neck and kicked Shisui too close to the groin for comfort. Another five near misses and they came to a stop yards from each other, breathing hard and wary. Shisui slowly relaxed, watching Itachi do the same. Slowly, the younger walked up to Shisui. His lips quirked.

“So you’re back.” Simple words as he cocked his head to the side, regarding Shisui carefully with an almost lazy contentment on his face.

“Yup, back and ready.” As Itachi’s lips twisted to ask “for what,” Shisui flickered. He grabbed Itachi around the waist and threw him into the air. Shocked by this tactic, Itachi landed with a satisfying splash before vanishing under water, and Shisui laughed.

~

Shisui spent the rest of the morning teaching Itachi how to catch fish bare handed. Much to Shisui’s delight, Itachi was terrible at this.

“You would starve.”

“I would not,” Itachi grumbled. He was in Shisui’s cloak and huddled against the other’s knee. He looked to be half asleep again, happily dozing on and off with his head on Shisui’s knee. Shisui felt a little bad for putting the kid through all this, but what could he do? It wasn’t like he’d planned to lose his marbles. He also hadn’t planned for Itachi to go into full-on mother seagull mode. Scary.

Hesitantly, Shisui reached down and stroked the top of Itachi’s head. He expected Itachi to yank back. Instead, the kid twisted his head a little into the pressure, murmuring something soft and Konoha slurred. Shisui grinned, utterly delighted. Just as delighted as he had been while making Itachi eat the fish raw, because that was how you did it. Itachi didn’t like it much, but he’d humored Shisui.

This—this right here? This was the most dangerous thing Shisui had ever tried to swim. The worst thing was, it felt too wave cursed good. Made him drop his guard. Made him feel safe, which was a load of ocean silt.

“We should get back,” Itachi admitted.

Shisui shook his head. “I want to take you somewhere.” As Itachi glanced up curiously, Shisui smiled widely. “Contact of a contact or a contact of a contact…” Shisui’s grin grew only wider as Itachi’s look turned sour as an old woman’s. Shisui laughed, earning himself a sock to the leg. It stung and Shisui knew it would bruise. Itachi didn’t believe in easy violence. If it didn’t bruise, it didn’t _count,_ so why do it? Itachi stood up and went to retrieve his drying clothes, somehow unconscious of his body as he dropped Shisui’s cloak and pulled on his pants.

Shisui grinned wide enough to dimple and kicked his feet out. “Too bad we still need that virginal sacrifice.” Itachi gave him a muted glare over his shoulder and tugged his shirt on. He swung Shisui’s cloak back over his shoulders and threw his own wet one at Shisui.

“I thought your silver tongue could talk anyone into anything,” Itachi countered, walking over with a silent killer’s stalk.

“Why would I waste my magic when all that’s at stake is a virgin?” Shisui asked, waggling his eyebrows. Itachi thumped his knee into Shisui’s, mildly rebuking. Shisui looked up at Itachi, knowing the little brat was still tired. He could probably curl up on the hard stone and sleep.

Shisui offered his hands up. Itachi reached down and caught them, bracing and leaning back at Shisui rocked up to his feet. Itachi still only came to below Shisui’s collarbones, but he looked larger.

“How far is it?” Itachi asked.

“Just a swim in a tide pool and a walk to the undergods,” Shisui shrugged and started off across the rocks. Itachi’s feet took a moment to follow, and it didn’t make Shisui nervous to have Itachi pattering behind him. He slid the boy’s damp cloak around his shoulders, slowing his pace for just long enough for Itachi to catch up beside him. They were in a hurry, but Shisui’s legs were already pleasantly burning from earlier in the morning. So, together, they walked as mortals might, wending and winding down to the path.

Shisui took Itachi along the way that would allow for a small group of soldiers to pass quickly. It was one of the longer ways, but it would be the one the brat’s employer would want to use. Itachi studied the path critically as they went from point to point, pausing at times to check the cover. They were moving faster than armed men would, and maybe that bothered Itachi. Maybe his little mind was churning up all the bad things that could happen and all the good things, weighing out pros and cons with each flicker of his eyes.

Shisui left him to it. After all, it wasn’t _his_ mission.

After another twenty minutes, Shisui changed track. He did it because he had finally realized someone was following them. He hadn’t meant to tip Itachi off but, five seconds after Shisui noticed, Itachi twitched his fingers in a subtle sign that probably meant they were being followed. Shisui didn’t know. Stupid Konoha-nin, assuming that Shisui would know his stupid hand signs…

“Mist-nin. The crows recognized them,” Itachi murmured softly, eyes ahead. Shisui cursed himself. He hadn’t even noticed the water cursed crows! Also, this was going to be a very good fight. A hard one. Could he do it with his arm at half strength? They’d already been sparring this morning, so they would be at a disadvantage.

No time to think. The enemy was here.

Their assailant struck right between them, trying to drive them apart. Shisui went flying to the side, flickering around to come back and strike from behind before he realized she wasn’t going for him. He slammed to a stop, letting his shins scream and his eyes go wide and red as he watched.

This woman—it was the woman---was one of Mist’s best. She was one of their Hunter-nin, and she _had_ to be good. Itachi, on the other hand, wasn’t even ANBU. He was twelve. He had spent nights not sleeping and watching out for Shisui. He’d already had a rough spar this morning, and he had to be tired and cold with weird stomach from eating so much raw fish.

The little brat was holding his own.

More than that, he seemed to be winning. It was an illusion created by the Sharingan’s abilities, but Itachi was always one step ahead. Shisui had never seen anyone else fight with the Sharingan before, expect when Itachi had been going for _him_. Itachi had better mastery of his than Shisui.  His chakra moved fast—like fire licking up oil. It burned up, leaving afterimages in Shisui’s eyes as his whirling pupils jumped to keep track of the fight. Itachi fought the woman off with a single, heavy bladed knife ( _SHISUI’S_ knife, he suddenly realized. Brat had kept it.).

Shisui waited, counting for just the right moment. He bounced on his toes, getting the tempo of the fight into his body and jerking his chakra to attention. He watched as Itachi faltered once, caught himself, but the woman had seen it. She would start thinking that maybe she could take him. Shisui’s face cracked into a grin, and he bounced _once_ before vanishing.

The blow to her back sent the woman sprawling, giving Itachi enough time to regain his footing. As she jerked back to her feet (and she was quick), she spun, reassessing with bright eyes behind the mask the double threat. She dodged the almost decapitation by Itachi, then had to dodge again as Shisui aimed a knife strike at her neck. Itachi ducked in from the side and almost hamstrung her, rolling low across the rocky ground to avoid getting kicked in the nose. Shisui fell on her next, landing two quick blows as he flickered by.

She barely staggered, but she’d felt them. Itachi came at her again—from the left, low and fast. At the last moment, she flicked out a long, thin weapon—so thin Shisui could barely make it out. He heard the scratch of Itachi’s feet on the ground—grating gravel against sandal as he tried to avoid the blow. His foot slipped. The thin silver arch came for his throat. Shisui flickered.

He caught Itachi around his stomach, flared his chakra, and flickered again, landing heavy and gripping Itachi’s suddenly limp form. A quick glance down showed him the blossoming of blood across Itachi’s cheek. It was nothing more than a scratch. The boy’s hands gripped Shisui’s arm with bruising force as he anchored his feet to the ground again.

“Don’t kill her. We need questions answered.” The order was almost inaudible, more communicated through the soft vibrations in Itachi’s chest as he pushed away from Shisui.

The woman had taken a moment to regard them from behind her mask. Stupid. Shisui sneered and moved, flaring his chakra and slamming into the rocky ground. He used chakra to stick to the uneven rocks. As she whirled to face the noise, Itachi came for her back again. Shisui was impressed with the kid’s lack of hesitation to attack someone from behind. She almost stuttered, whipping the long, thin sword around behind her back to block Itachi’s blow. Itachi’s blade skittered to the side, scoring a thin line along her back. Shisui shoved off the rocks and came at her from the front, dodging a blow that would have likely gutted him.

Her sword reminded him of one of the seven swordsman’s weapons, but she wasn’t one of them. They would both be _dead_ if she was. Shisui dropped back, down, and kicked at her feet. She simply stepped back, as comfortable as he was with the treacherous rocky ground. Her hands were white knuckled around her weapon, and Shisui imagined her face was a rictus of hate. Someone had issues.

Shisui saw the flair of chakra before he realized what was happening. The fire blossomed, burning away the soggy warmth of the air and replacing it with _true_ heat, raced upon them in seconds. Shisui felt the heat of it lick his face, crinkling up his hair. Shisui flickered, stumbling a little as he landed, flickering again as he felt the heat wash over him again. He slammed to a backwards stop this time, jerked around to see what had happened. A wall of fog and steam rushed over him, and, despite his Sharingan, he could barely see. It didn’t matter. He could hear, and he had grown up on a foggy island.

Itachi’s steps were light—kitten steps in the murk. The woman…she was a panther. Deadly, silent, but Shisui could almost feel her boots press into the rocks. He closed his eyes and listened, drew a breath, and leapt. Shisui wasn’t anything. He was air and water and fog embodied into a physical form, hard enough to kill those who came onto his island unwary.

In this moment, the clammy air rippling by him, Shisui reclaimed something he’d lost in Itachi’s cramped little inn room. He was not Shisui, bastard Uchiha and crippled informant. He was not Harada Hashi. He was not Fuwa Eitaro. Or Fukaimori Koji. or Makimachi Misao. Or Ota Kenichi. He was none any of those humans with their flesh and bone concerns and abilities.

He was Tsuyu Shisui, bastard child of a woman no one dared name on this damned little island. He was the trickster spirit in the mist, waiting with a wide smile to take whatever he pleased.

He wasn’t just some half breed ninja.

He was a god.

He took the woman off her feet, knocking the weapon from her hand. They slammed into the ground hard. Shisui felt blood burst across his arm, some stitch ripped (so the bright pain told him). The woman spat, and Shisui felt something burning hit his face. Poison. Nice. Shisui hammered his knee into her gut, hoping it would do more than bruise as he surged up, flipping on his hands to gain he feet and flicker away into nothing.

He smelled Itachi—the boy now silent as he crouched and readied something. Shisui could see the bright curls of chakra all around the boy, whipping in and out of his hands. He heard the woman gain her feet as she wretched, hands on the ground as she scrambled for her weapon. Shisui rebounded on a rock and jumped, wicked grin twisting against the scalded freckles on his face.

She flinched back as his feet crashed back to the earth near her, then they both braced themselves as a heavy wind threatened to knock them both down. Shisui kicked up her weapon into his hand, jumping away even as her kunai slammed into his foot. When Shisui landed this time pain flared from that foot, almost enough to make him stumble. Shisui held firm and realized her mask was off.

And he knew her.

Itachi stood, small and erect, not too far away. His red eyes were cold, and Shisui thought it made him look older. Eerie. Really dangerous, though he was tiny bird bones and bleeding from three wounds—one that had almost taken out his eyes.

“You can’t beat us. You should know that by now.” Itachi spoke in that cold, clipped voice that really said he didn’t give a rotting fish about this woman or her life. Shisui’s grin widened as she looked between them.

“I only have told hold you for a few more minutes,” She replied. Her voice was wonderfully smooth. Lilting and melodic in a way that Shisui instantly liked. He wanted to talk like that.

Shisui laughed. Itachi could be the reasonable one here—sea and surf, he looked it. Shisui knew his hair was at its wildest. Craziest. He smiled so widely his cheeks dimpled. “That’s a nice bluff, _darling_ ,” Shisui giggled—high and deranged. The woman stared at him, and Itachi barely twitched. Good for him!

“They’re not coming, are they? Hard to get the dead to get up and fight, isn’t it?” Shisui knew this because some memory that wasn’t his prompted the knowledge. She was too pale. Too wild in the eyes. Shisui swallowed and drew up the group dynamics. “After your captain killed your lover, you reacted on instinct. You killed him. Then you couldn’t let any witnesses live. Now, oh now you can just tell Mist that _I_ killed off your team.”

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed as she stared at him.

“ _And_ , redeem yourself by bringing them my eyes.” Shisui chuckled. “Oh, wouldn’t that be sweet? You can’t bring him back from the dead, but you can profit, can’t you? You can make the most of this disaster, and, at least you’ll keep your life and your dignity.”

“You know nothing,” She spat. “I’ve heard all about your tricks—your powerful eyes and your silver tongue. We should have known better than to allow your mother to breed with an Uchiha. You should have never existed, bastard.”

“I’m so hurt,” Shisui smiled, but his heart was pounding. His mother—had this woman known her? The thought passed quickly. It didn’t matter. (Did it?)

The woman sneered and looked at Itachi. “We come from different villages, but least we know what it is to be loyal. This one only knows how to serve himself, and he has the power to twist your mind over on itself. You should know better than to hold an adder to your breast, Uchiha. You’ll never even know when he bites you, or how his poison will twist you.”

“So I should give him over to you and save myself?” Itachi suggested dryly, his red eyes still spinning lazily. Shisui had to admit, the Sharingan was pretty fascinating to watch.

“Save your needy clan from polluting themselves. Someone like him can never be loyal and true. He’s a bargaining chip and nothing more. He seeks his best interest, and, above all, his freedom. If you leave him to me, I’ll spare you, Uchiha Itachi.”

She seemed disappointed that Itachi didn’t seem surprised that she knew his name. Shisui slid a senbon into hand and prepared to kill her, even though he could feel the blood running down his foot.

“Let’s not bluff, Hunter-san. The two of us could take you, and Shisui-san has enough reasons to help me kill you without any questions of loyalty cropping up,” Itachi raised his chin a fraction. Frigid little fish he was.

“I could escape, and I could blow your cover.” She smiled. “How would that damage your clan, if you managed to escape? Wouldn’t they be devastated if it was known you had failed such a simple mission?” Her cheek dimpled charmingly, and Shisui saw Itachi falter.

“And you want Shisui.” When had Itachi gotten his own, personal way of saying Shisui’s name? With a little bit of a lisp and whistled to it that made Itachi sound his age.

“I want him. All I want is for you to walk away, and I’ll leave with him.” Her honey smooth voice was back. Shisui started cackling, earning himself wary looks from the both. For a moment, Itachi looked like he was considering it. Shisui didn’t believe it. Itachi wouldn’t give him up after everything, just for this silly mission. Just for pride? Never.

But his face said he was tempted. He was caving. He was giving in.

He shook his head. “Shisui’s eyes are nothing special, but he is half my blood. I cannot abandon him to another power.” Itachi’s eyes closed for a moment, and he seemed to steel himself. “I can give you another Sharingan to take home and appease your masters.”

She scoffed. “You would give me _your_ eyes, little genius?”

Itachi shook his head. “No. I would give you an eye that has already been stolen from my family.” Itachi’s lips twisted in displeasure. “An eye that, because of loyalties, we have not been allowed to take back. It should have been burned along with my cousin’s body.”

Itachi gave the woman a long look, and her lips dipped up into a pleased smile again. “The Copy-nin travels with you.”

Itachi didn’t respond to that, but his lips thinned. “I can promise you one Sharingan—unharmed by removal—if this mission goes off without your interference.”

“I can’t hang around that long, as sweet as your offer is,” The woman protested.

“Then give me until the day after tomorrow. I’ll meet you before sunrise with the eye,” Itachi suggested.

“No. Bring it to me sooner,” The woman demanded, stepped forward. Shisui shifted closer, and his foot slid in the blood puddling around his foot. Could he take her? He could. He could annihilate her mind, and it would all be so simple. The only thing that kept him from it was what had happened last time. Would he completely lose himself if he did it so soon?

Itachi stared at the woman for a few long moments where everything seemed to get colder. His eyes were redder than the little bits of coral Shisui dug up on the shore but just as hard and cold. Shisui imagined they would cut into his fingers if he ever touched them. Slice him to the bone. The look made this woman hesitate.

“No.” Itachi took a breath that looked more like he was tasting the air. “Tomorrow night and no sooner. I have things to accomplish that do not concern _you_.” It tickled Shisui that Itachi was tiny—bird bones and barely over five foot, but he could slam this woman down to a smaller size. Breeding or training? Shisui hoped it was breeding. He wanted to do that.

She wanted to argue. Shisui saw that and was again tempted to pounce. He watched her bite the inside of her cheek, half able to tell because of the twitch there, half able to tell because he knew it was a habit of hers. Then her mouth would taste like blood when his tongue wiped it clean…

“That will do.” She lifted her own chin and looked at Itachi as if he was just a child. No one was convinced.

“Don’t follow us,” Itachi added, eyes narrowing. “Your presence is a hindrance, and I have no intention of endangering my ‘simple mission’ to calm your distrust.”

She smiled. “I’m to just take you at your word, child?”

“You’ll take us at our word, bitch, because you don’t have a choice. We’ve got you over a barrel,” Shisui’s mouth split wide open, and he reached inside for a certain phrasing and cadence. It came up mixed with the scent of her hair and the taste of her skin. His body almost shuddered as a voice whispered how sweet she was. How lovely. How tender and glorious to take in the wildest of places as you both struggled not to make a sound---

(Don’t you want to feel that too?)

“Or I’ll make you like I made him. You’ll go beggin’ back to them, tellin’ ‘em everything you did wrong, my darling.” Her eyes flickered to him, widening slowly. “You’ll tell ‘em that the man you was supposed to catch—that he ripped every one of their secrets from your mind—nay, you’ll tell them that you told him willingly. And what will they do? What does the Mist do to their traitors, darling mine?”

“Shisui, that’s enough.” Itachi spoke softly, bringing attention sharply back to himself. Shisui snapped his teeth shut, clinging faintly to Itachi’s voice and his fragile sense of self.

Who was Tsuyu Shisui anyway?

No one? Anyone? A lying bastard child of no repute?

If he dug into his mind to find what he was instead of living on the surface impulses and charisma, what would he find?

_That you are not alone, are you?_

That he was thousands or hundreds of people, crammed in fragments into one mind, mixing and mingling and morphing into new people at every turn. It didn’t have to make sense. Memories strove to be complete. The partial memory of loving melons cleaved to the memory of being a father in Cloud, even though they were from different people, miles apart.

“Pretty lap dog, isn’t he? Do you really trust him?” The woman asked. Shisui could know her name if he dipped his hand down into that memory. He could know _so much_ about her if he just stepped back and down to the left, opening that little hatch that lead to the knowledge. He could see his hand on the door.

“What I trust or don’t trust is none of your concern. Only know that I don’t trust you.” Itachi flicked a knife into his hand. “It would be good for our future dealings if you left now.” When asked. Like a good dog. Shisui giggled—high pitched and unnerving even to himself. She glanced at him, and she wanted to fight again. Her hands were shaking, and Shisui started humming.

_Little girl on the ocean line,_

_Little girl I’ll make you mine._

Her face twisted into a vicious snarl, eyes bright. She managed to move before Shisui slammed into her. The thin sword he’d held snapped under the pressure of hitting the rocks, and he dropped it. His foot slid on the rocks, laying him out on his side. It didn’t matter. Shisui dug his hands into the gravel and rocks and was on his feet in moment, leaping after her. He _flickered_ , point to point, crouching to wait for her. He held his breath until his eyes saw rainbow spots, listening to her footsteps thud closer. She passed him at a run and never knew it. He didn’t think she had any intention of coming back. Shisui let out a breath and rose to watch her flee.

Shisui wondered if she was going to report to someone. Maybe her entire team wasn’t dead. Right now, he wasn’t going to risk getting into a fight with them if they weren’t. He leaned against the rock and breathed, then flickered back to where he had left Itachi. Itachi, who was in exactly the same spot he had been when Shisui left, caught Shisui’s arm before he fell.

“You don’t know the meaning of restraint, do you?” Itachi asked, his little boy fingers pinching into Shisui’s skin.

“I was making sure she was going,” Shisui shrugged. “She stayed around too long.” He wobbled a moment, but got himself moving in the proper direction. In three steps, his foot was screaming agony. Had he broken it? Maybe. Shisui never could tell when his feet were broken.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come back?” Shisui asked with a crooked smile.

Itachi shot him a dark, childishly sullen look. “If you hadn’t, I would have assumed she attacked you or you passed out somewhere…let’s stop and look at your foot.”

“Little farther ahead,” Shisui motioned with a hand. “Better place to stop.” He grabbed Itachi’s sleeve and tugged the boy along, breathing in deep gasps that kept his body from crying at him. Flickering was tough work. He almost couldn’t get enough oxygen in sometimes. He had a system now, but he’d really been pushing his body today.

Plus, if he focused intently on his breathing, he couldn’t hear the voices in his head starting to whisper at him.

Shisui guided Itachi down a little rock slide, and into a small circle of rocks. Shisui sank down onto one and propped his foot out in front of him. His foot was covered in blood and looked a little swollen. As Shisui leaned forward to ease his sandal off, Itachi crouched down and did it himself. He removed the object with care—a practiced tenderness that made Shisui raise his eyebrows. Itachi’s fingers were cold, and Shisui’s bright blood made a stark contrast to their paleness.

Itachi’s hair was still damp, heavy in the way it clung to his head. Shisui watched that as Itachi’s fingers stroked his foot, probing and guessing the damage. Shisui wiggled his toes to be helpful and almost groaned. He rolled his head back, clenched his hands, and closed his eyes, hissing through his teeth.

“Hurts?” Itachi asked, perhaps teasing, maybe just being mean because he could be a sea-witch when he wanted to be.

“Yes. Nothing’s broken, I don’t think,” Shisui offered hopefully. Itachi made a noise of assent and pulled something from the pouch at his hip. Shisui leaned forward a little and watched as Itachi unsealed a small cloth. With it, he started wiping the blood off, ignoring how the blood got all over him.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Shisui observed, meaning more being gentle than wound cleaning. Who would think to train a killer’s hand in kindness? His mother had always been rough but efficient when it came to wound care.

“I have a younger brother,” Itachi sounded almost defensive, but his hands didn’t falter as he finally found the wound on Shisui’s foot. It wasn’t large, but it was deep. Shisui leaned over, close enough he could smell the damp salt clinging to Itachi’s skin.

“He gets hurt a lot? Why doesn’t your mother take care of him?” Shisui pressed, sure that the Uchiha heir would be too busy to take care of baby scratches and bumps.

“Because he asks me too,” Itachi began rubbing ointment into the wound and Shisui hissed. He’d missed where that had come from. He’d been looking at the sand in Itachi’s scalp.

“I think we had a discussion about you being a needy child who needs to be needed?” Shisui asked, letting his head fall forward enough to tap against the top of Itachi’s. Itachi’s hands kept moving, perfectly systematic as they tied a bandage around Shisui’s foot. That hurt.

“I like taking care of those I love and am responsible for,” Itachi countered as he tugged the knot tight.

“Like a good little clan head.”

Itachi sat back and looked up at Shisui. He had blood all over his hands and smeared on his dark pants. Shisui’s aching foot sat in his lap. His own face had three scratches on it, all aimed at his eyes it seemed.

“Do you want something for the pain?” Itachi asked.

“Nah, it’s fine. It’ll pass.” Maybe.

“Your face…” Itachi grimaced and reached up.

“Is gorgeous?” Shisui finished hopefully.

“Is covered in burns—I thought you were supposed to be fast, Shunshin _no Shisui_ _.”_ Itachi sighed and pulled something else out of his magic scroll. This time, it was just a damp cloth. Shisui wrinkled his nose as Itachi raised it towards his face.

“That is the lamest nickname _ever_ ,” Shisui protested.

“Close your mouth, you’re not supposed to ingest this,” Itachi instructed, pressing the cloth to the side of Shisui’s face. Shisui rolled his eyes.  The cloth wiped away the little burning pains of his face. Itachi’s eyes were no longer a cold, hard red. They were a soft grey, crinkled at the corner with concerned concentration.

And this, Shisui realized, was Itachi at his most powerful.

“Hey, gimme that cloth. Your _gorgeous_ face is covered in blood, Uchiha genius.” Shisui grabbed Itachi’s wrist, and Itachi released the cloth with a smile.


	11. Lying Eyes

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.-Neil Gaiman

_I tried to do headstands for you,_  
 _Every time I fell on you yeah every time I fell,_  
 _I tried to do handstands for you but every time I fell for you,_  
 _I'm permanently black and blue, permanently blue  
_. . .  
 _I got bruises on my knees for you_  
 _And grass stains on my knees for you_  
 _Got holes in my new jeans for you_  
 _Got pink and black and blue_  
Bruises-Chairlift

* * *

 

Itachi finally decided the path would do. They went more slowly after the fight, both tired and Shisui lame.  He put up a good front, but by the time they’d reached the end of the path, his face was pinched with pain. His foot had started bleeding again. Itachi kept starting to offer Shisui some kind of pain medication but had settled for walking close, so when Shisui stumbled or needed a shoulder to lean on to keep from hurting his foot, he had it.

The path opened up to a small bay. Itachi was surprised to see the rocks open up to black sand. Itachi paused, looking left and right to see how far the sand stretched. It made a sizeable semi-circle, cupped in the hands of a steep bowl. Shisui snorted and muttered something about gawking land walkers before he swung away from Itachi.

A little hut sat back against the cliff, and someone had built a pier out of drift wood. A little fishing boat had been beached on the shore, and an old man sat on the pier, hunched back towards them.

“Oi! Jii-chan!” Shisui shouted and waved an arm. The old man turned around, grunting something.

“You!” The old man labored to his feet, waving a thick, gnarled walking cane. Itachi thought it was some drift wood until he realized someone had embedded metal and what looked like gems in the wood. “You tide-born, flea bitten cur dog! Get off my beach, thrice cursed bitch’s son!”

“I thought he was your contact,” Itachi hissed as he moved closer to Shisui.

“I didn’t say he liked me.” Shisui flashed Itachi his most charming grin and wandered closer to the man with a confident swagger that would probably have anyone trying to bash his face in on principle. Itachi sighed and followed at a safe distance.

“But I come bearing blessings and tidings from strange lands!” Shisui protested with a lilting laugh in his voice. Itachi felt a prickle of alarm go up his back and he looked sharply at Shisui. Was he using chakra? Could something sound like chakra? Itachi felt an annoyed prickle pass over him. Shisui didn’t have enough chakra to waste right now, or did he? Itachi knew he was hitting the end of his reserves, but he was young with tiny reserves. Shisui probably had more, but the flicker seemed to burn chakra like fire burned oil.

If Itachi had to carry Shisui back, he was going to be angry. And tempted to just shove Shisui into a convenient crack and come back for him later.

“Blessings! Last time you brought me blessings my boat sunk! It took me weeks to get the smell out of my nose, and there are _still_ krill in my house!” The old man stumped closer, very fast despite the stiffness in his left leg. He waved his stick (it seemed more like a weapon than something used to aid him in walking).  “You get off my beach, demon child! Whore’s spawn! Your mother should have aborted you the second she knew she carried a demon’s creation!”

Shisui’s eyes snapped cold, and he flickered. He hit the old man hard, knocking him down and landing lightly on the pier beyond the old man. The old man cried out as he fell into the soft sand. Itachi watched, mirroring Shisui’s frigid expression. The sudden _lack_ of anything in Shisui’s eyes alarmed Itachi. He told himself it was just an act. It was all an act.

“You should know better than to speak of my mother that way, Jii-chan.” Now Shisui’s voice sounded hollow and cold, like an empty cave. Itachi itched to look and see if Shisui made this happen with talent, or if he used chakra. The old man still struggled to stand, floundering in the soft sand with his stiff leg. He reminded Itachi of an over-turned turtle, and Itachi had to resist the urge to help the old man stand.

“Should have tossed her out of my boat when I hand the chance,” The old man grunted as he finally  wallowed to his knees and grabbed his stick. “Sea witch—I knew she was only trouble. Damned myself to hell for bringing her to my island home.”

Surprisingly, Shisui threw his head back and laughed. Itachi felt Shisui had reverted to the wild haired creature Itachi had first met a few weeks ago (only two weeks and some days, actually). “As if you could have drowned her! She had you well under her spell, Jii-chan. Someone like you couldn’t break it.”

“She drowned in the end,” The old man grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He eyed Shisui as if he wished the same fate would visit him. “What trouble are you here to bring down on my head?”

Shisui’s face barely flickered at the mention of his mother’s death, but then he smiled. “No trouble. Just a small business opportunity.” Shisui glanced back at Itachi. The old man turned his head and barked a laugh as he took Itachi in.

“Seducing the babies now? Can’t stand for any virtue to go untouched, can ye?” The old man gave Shisui a look heavily covered with scorn.

Shisui grinned. A fog that had been gathering all morning had solidified in this little bay, making Shisui truly look like some kind of spirit. “It was my virtue your daughter sullied, and she was the one who did all the seducing.”

“If she hadn’t been heavy with your spawn, she wouldn’t have been dragged down into the deep,” The old man growled darkly.

“Wasn’t my spawn she carried in her belly.” Shisui waved a dismissive hand.  “I wasn’t the one offering you a bride price, and twasn’t my boat she fell out of, was it?”

The old man’s scowl deepened, but he stumped closer to Shisui. “And what golden opportunity are you crowing about this morning, hellborn?”

“I prefer mist-born,” Shisui waved an airy hand and grinned viciously. “One that will make you a rich man again, Jii-chan. Why don’t we come and sit a while?”

“What about your friend there?” The old man asked with a grunt. Itachi and Shisui’s gaze met and Shisui gave a little twitch that seemed to be a shake of his head. Itachi nodded, he would stand aside while negotiations went on.

“I’ll deal with Shisui’s friend,” A rough, heavily accented voice spoke suddenly over Shisui’s words. Itachi turned his head, seeing Shisui make another dismissive gesture, then his attention was completely taken by the woman who had come from the mists. She was dressed only in hakama, the rest of her bare. She was dripped wet, the heavy cloth sticking to her legs, her hair dripping.  She smiled, her teeth yellowed and oddly sharp.

“Come and speak with me while the men talk of earthly business, little one so dear so my Shisui’s heart,” The woman said in a silky voice, reaching her hand out to touch Itachi’s face as she leaned towards him. Her fingers were blue with cold, as were her lips. Her hand, as she touched his cheek, shocked him with its coldness, the damp feeling leaching into his skin. She smiled and straightened, breasts bouncing with the motion (they were at eye level) before she walked past Itachi and down the beach.

Itachi looked at Shisui, who hardly seemed to notice the woman. Shisui jerked his head and turned to face the man. “Come on, Jii-chan. We don’t have all day.”

The old man smiled and watched the woman go. “Then, let us bargain, mist born brat.”

Itachi hesitated, then followed the woman down the shoreline. She chose one of the few rocks that jutted out of the sand and patted the place next to her as Itachi approached. Itachi eyed her carefully, looking at her light blue eyes and the almost filmy look to them.

“You don’t trust me.” She smiled over these words.

“Where did you come from?” Itachi asked. He felt certain they had been alone on the beach.

The woman shrugged. “I was diving for clams. The waters here can be deceptively treacherous, but the clams are most excellent.” Another flash of a smile.

“Are you the old man’s daughter?” Itachi asked.

The woman laughed. “No, she’s dead. Do I look dead to you?”

Itachi looked over her pale, blue tinted skin and thought she did a little, but he shook his head. The question was rhetorical, as the dead didn’t speak or walk the earth like men. More likely, she was a the old man’s friend or mistress come to dig information out of Itachi. Her lack of dress was probably supposed to unnerve him. “Then who are you?”

She smiled widely, crooked with one pointed tooth jutting out at a feral angle. “Just another poor trickster spirit trying to eke out her living on this cursed rock.” She patted the space beside her again. “Come, sit, tell me what about you has Shisui in such a titter.”

Itachi eyed her warily and kept silent, though he sat. The woman watched him with merriment dancing in her eyes, then shrugged her shoulders and leaned back on her hands. Water still dripped off every point of her body and ran down her skin. “I see how it is, but you needn’t worry. I’ve known Shisui since he was very small.” The woman raised her hand and pointed. “See how he is with the old man? That’s the old man who brought his mother to this island, and who she often left Shisui with when he was too young to remember. This old man taught Shisui how to swim and taught both of us how to fish.”

The woman smiled more gently. “Not that Shisui remembers those times very well. His memory of other’s aid has always been faulty even when it comes to his own mother. He’s a very independent child and capable of great delusions.”

Itachi looked over at Shisui, who was talking seriously to the old man. Itachi felt the damp heat radiating off the woman’s body, and she smelled sweetly of decay. He avoided glancing over, aware of the rise and fall of her breasts in the corner of his eye. He watched Shisui instead, mouth dry. “I think we’re friends.”

"Friends?" The woman asked, clapping her hands with and almost delighted mocking of the word. She laughed, just as wild and free as Shisui. “Really, Shisui having a friend? He's not the kind of person who would have friends, or treat them well. He thinks only of himself.”

“He’s very kind,” Itachi protested.

“He’s ruthless,” The woman corrected. “He’s been raised to only care about himself.”

“No one can live so alone,” Itachi dropped his voice and watched Shisui’s fast hands wave in the air, describing his intentions with manic energy.

“You think he’s lonely?” The woman asked, drawing her knees up and looking over at Itachi. She looked much younger suddenly.

Itachi looked at her and nodded. “Yes. He’s very lonely for unselfish company.”

The woman snorted. “There’s no such thing.”

“There is,” Itachi countered.

“What do you want from him?” The woman asked, turning her head to give him a sharp look with her vague eyes. Itachi wondered if she saw very well.

“I…” Itachi blinked and looked at Shisui. “I wish he would take care of himself.” The words surprised him, and they made the woman smile without revealing a single tooth.

“Do you love him?” The woman asked abruptly, still staring. Her cheek dimpled. “I had always thought Uchiha were incapable of loving anyone but themselves.” Itachi stared, startled she knew what he was so easily. He hadn’t thought he’d given anything away. Shisui had only guessed when he’d seen Itachi’s eyes.

She laughed again. “I know your kind when I see them, little red-eyed bird. Do you plan to take my Shisui far away, back to Konoha where they’ll try to tame him into something manageable?”

Itachi caught a noise like a laugh in the back of his throat. “It would take more than a forest and a village to tame Shisui,” Itachi pointed out with a bare smile. Actually, Itachi had a hard time imagining Shisui in Konoha. Would he live in a little apartment like his cave? Would be swindle villagers and charm everyone with his crooked smile? Would he be chained down and still, lifeless and motionless under the new rules and constraints of his position?

What life was Itachi intending to drag Shisui into? Would he kill the very things about Shisui that made him enjoyable?

“But it will change him, and how will that change warp his twisted soul? Will he hate it? Love it? Use and abuse it? What about how it will change his feelings for you?” The woman gave Itachi a haughty stare. “And how yours will change for him once you have the exotic fascination caged for daily consumption? You can grow sick of the most delightful foods if you feast on them daily.”

“Shisui isn’t a food. Relationships aren’t like that.” Itachi hoped not, but he felt the doubt start up. Yes, he liked Shisui, but Shisui also frightened him. Itachi’s body still held bruises and cuts from Shisui’s mercurial moods and unprovoked violence. Shisui could be violent and vicious, and only lately Itachi had been under the shadow of Shisui’s protective wing. Who knew when he would see fit to turn Itachi out?

“You’re trying to make me doubt him,” Itachi complained softly, eyes trained on Shisui.

“I’m trying to keep you from ruining him for your own selfish desires,” The woman corrected like a teacher at the Academy might. Itachi frowned.

“He’s not safe here anymore.” Even Shisui agreed with that.

“But will he be safer in your cage? Or do you just want him close enough to touch. I see how you look at him, your heart in your eye and fear in your breath. Are you in lust, or do you fancy it something more, little Uchiha?” The woman asked in a familiar silk tone laced with bright silver. Itachi looked at her face and her wild curls, still dripping wet and reduced to waves.

“I don’t know much about being in love,” Itachi admitted. “Or how it feels or how you should act.”

The woman chuckled. “Love is a bitter sweet delusion. People will always let you down. They will always be less than the image you love.” Her shoulders rolled in a shrug.

Itachi thought of Sasuke and his parents, people he would casually admit to loving. He thought he loved his parents because he should, but he knew he loved Sasuke because he _must_. Because Sasuke’s being and actions sparked the emotion in Itachi with an unexpected delight every time. What he felt for Shisui wasn’t anything like as joyous and delighted, but it came involuntarily. He didn’t think he controlled it, or he could will it away. He didn’t know if it was love or some other connection, but he felt _something_ Shisui had so mockingly called love.

_I made you fall in love with me_.

Itachi bit his lip. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think you love him?” The woman asked, her cold fingers prickling the skin on the back of his hand.

“I don’t think it’s a delusion. I don’t…it’s not what I want him to be that I like, but what he is. Maybe I am in love with a mask or a delusion, but if what I see is real…if I’m… _attracted_ to some part of him that isn’t real, I have to get closer to see.” Itachi kicked his feet into the sand. “I don’t want to love an illusion.”

“The closer you get, the less you will like what you see,” The woman warned, her voice lilting oddly.

Itachi felt a true smile break onto his face. “The closer I get, the more surprised I am. The more…excited I get to see what else he’s hiding, or how else he’ll surprise me.” Not always in good ways, but Shisui presented challenges everywhere Itachi turned. Shocked him. Scared him. Made him have to think faster on his feet than anyone else.

Itachi had no doubt Shisui was one of the only people in the world who could utterly _break him_ , mentally and physically. Itachi trusted such a volatile creature too much. He amused himself too much with Shisui’s flickering nature, just as fast and dangerous as the technique Shisui so easily used. Itachi drew his knees up and hugged them to his chest, feeling suddenly giddy.

“One day, he will make you sorry you exist.” The woman’s words came out wistfully prophetic. Itachi turned his head and saw her staring at Shisui with such a deep longing it startled him. Itachi felt a sudden pang of jealousy (possessiveness he had no right to), then the woman pinned him with a look, waiting for the answer.

“I’m sure he will.” Itachi didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt true. “The time between then and now will be worth it.”

The woman smiled, baring her teeth. “You don’t mean that. You simply cannot bear to admit you can’t handle him. Like a greedy child, you won’t allow anyone to pry even a finger of your off your new toy.” She chuckled, low and throaty like some wild animal’s call.

“Oh, he has dragged you in deep.” Her smile twisted to amused, and she reached up a hand to brush at Itachi’s hair. Itachi froze as her cold fingers touched his face, clammy and soggy. “Oh, but who could resist a face like yours, sweet little red-eyed bird? Blood calls to blood, doesn’t it? The Uchiha knew how to breed for looks.” Itachi could swear her expression was fond for a moment as her nails grazed his cheek.

“Not good for anything else, but the mother’s folly is often the child’s.” The woman sighed and stood. “They’re almost done over there.” She waved a hand at the bartering pair. Itachi stood as well, trying to decide what the woman meant with her words, or what she was trying to make him think she meant.

“And, against my better judgment, which is to gut you now…” The woman gave Itachi a cold stare. “I leave my son to your care. Get him off this island before his ambitions drown him, and do not let your clan’s ambition burn him to the quick.” The woman fixed him with a cold, cold stare that reached inside of him and squeezed his heart tight.  At the look on his face, her smile widened.

“The dead only sleep here when they are restful. I have never been one to lay my head anywhere long.” She lifted her head and looked at Shisui. “And neither has he. All my worst in one small body.” The woman made an annoyed noise, but as Itachi looked back at her, she was gone. She had left no footsteps in the damp sand, only the lingering smell of decay.

Itachi jerked his head around to look at Shisui. The boy stood and walked down the pier, waving to Itachi with a broad grin on his face. Itachi glanced back for the woman, saw nothing, then started for Shisui. He started at a walk, then broke into a jog, and by the time he met Shisui, he was running. Itachi fetched up beside Shisui, skin crawling. He glanced behind himself again but saw nothing, brushing his side to Shisui’s anyway.

“Your employer now has a bay,” Shisui bowed low, then gave Itachi a curious look. “What were you doing over there anyway?”

“I—Shisui, are ghosts real?” Itachi asked, feeling a little frantic at the edges as he stepped close to Shisui, and they started to walk out of the sandy bay.

Shisui blinked at stared at Itachi before shrugging. “Of course they are. You’re not even going to say thank you, are you?”

“I think I just saw your mother,” Itachi blurted the words out, almost biting his tongue in his haste. They were almost back to the rocky trail, but Shisui whipped around, eyes suddenly red as he looked back and forth over the sand.

“Where?” Shisui asked sharply, voice strained. His eyes jumped around the scenery. “Where did you see her?”

“I—she was there on the rock. She wanted to talk to me,” Itachi managed, now alarmed by Shisui’s reaction. Shisui took three steps back towards the water, body strung tight. Anxious. Frightened.

“I didn’t see her.” Shisui’s words fell thickly from his lips. He turned to look at Itachi with wide eyes. “Why didn’t _I_ see her?” His voice cracked.

“I don’t know,” Itachi replied helplessly. He didn’t know why Shisui would want to see the woman with a film over her eyes like that. Itachi’s spine crawled with the feeling of her close to him, and the odd hollowness in her voice. He crossed his arms and pushed his hands between his arms and his sides. Shisui looked back to the beach, eyes darting back and forth again, but the beach was empty. He looked lost.

“What did she say?” Shisui asked, swinging back to face Itachi. Itachi scrambled for a moment to remember what had been said, but he found the conversation drifted easily from his mind, except for one phrase: _He will make you regret your existence_. Itachi couldn’t remember the shape of the words, but not their substance. Only the sound of them, but not the meaning.

“I don’t remember,” Itachi confessed as Shisui caught his shoulder. Shisui’s fingers pinched hard, but more because he was scared, not for meanness.  “You’re hurting me.”

Shisui didn’t lessen his hold. “You _have_ to remember. It just happened. By the tides, how do you forget a conversation with a spirit?” Shisui asked sharply, giving Itachi a shake.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Itachi’s tone bordered dangerously on a wail, and he took a sharp breath that hurt. Shisui’s hand tightened on Itachi’s shoulder, expression between lost and angry. His fingers dug into the nerves of Itachi’s arm, and Itachi wanted to strike to make Shisui let go. Instead he stood silent and slowly, carefully, Shisui’s hand loosened.

“Why didn’t I see her?” Shisui asked softly this time, and Itachi knew the tone. It was the tone Sasuke used when Itachi broke his word or failed to make a play date. It was the utterly heartbroken tones of a small child abandoned by someone they loved.

Itachi gently touched Shisui’s arm, and Shisui dropped Itachi’s arm. Shisui turned around sharply and started walking, briskly despite his injured foot. Itachi hurried to keep up, falling in close enough to steady Shisui again as they walked. At some point, Itachi slipped under Shisui’s arm to help him over a rock, and there he stayed.

~

After a bare skeleton report to Kakashi from Shisui (sold your eye on the black market, got a landing point, going to bed), Kakashi had only looked vaguely surprised, but had made Shisui stay up long enough to draw a map of the landing place so he could send a message to their employer. Itachi had already collapsed into bed, drained from the two fights of the morning and the brush with the supernatural. What he hadn’t expected was Shisui to fall into bed on top of him, which resulted in a scuffle for space that left them both breathless and Shisui already half asleep.

Kakashi woke Itachi with a finger to his forehead. Itachi blinked and glanced at the window, finding it to be late afternoon.

“There are a few things we need to discuss,” Kakashi began, then sat on the edge of Itachi’s already crowded bed. Itachi would have gotten up, but Shisui was half across him, head on his chest, one hand knotted in Itachi’s shirt, legs tangled. Itachi felt horribly self-conscious.

“About what?” Itachi kept his voice low, trying to not let it vibrate too much in his chest. He could think of several things Kakashi might want to discuss, one of them being the weight on Itachi’s chest.

“Well…perhaps that you have promised my eye to someone? I think this might be an issue…” Kakashi looked contemplative. “You are a very truthful person, in my limited experience.”

“I can lie when I need to,” Itachi felt almost certain Kakashi knew that. “If we’re well rested, Shisui and I should be able to handle her on our own. Your eye will not be needed.”

“Mah, maybe I’ll tag along to make it more convincing…” Kakashi mused, taking an absent sip from his coffee. And make sure Itachi and Shisui didn’t hurt themselves too badly, Itachi added mentally as he watched Kakashi ponder. What he pondered Itachi had no idea. The man could be spacing out for all Itachi knew.

“Was there something else?” Itachi prompted.

“Yes…” Kakashi stared off into nothing for a few moments longer. “The guards and officials need to be taken care of before the invading force arrives.” Itachi nodded and Kakashi tipped his head. “I think we’ll need Shisui’s expert insider’s opinion.”

“You think?” Shisui asked, voice muffled. He shifted his head enough to stare at Kakashi. Itachi pushed at his shoulders.

“If you’re awake, get up,” Itachi protested.

Shisui looked mournfully at Kakashi. “Loving someone so cold is very hard.”

Kakashi nodded sagely. “The fickleness of youth.” It didn’t help that he suddenly drew a bright orange book from nowhere and paged it open. “I can offer some tips for warming up a frigid partner.”

Shisui propped himself up on Itachi’s chest. Itachi felt his ears start burning. “Please do!” Shisui leered, and, in the next moment, Itachi had tossed Shisui off the bed. Shisui landed on his feet and bowed, and Itachi swung off in the other direction towards the bathroom. Shisui’s laugh followed him, but when Itachi finally came out, Kakashi had secured some kind of food and laid out a map.

Kakashi and Shisui leaned their heads over the map, speaking in low tones to each other as they pointed things out. Kakashi had a list of names by his left knee. Itachi grabbed a rice ball and poured himself some tea before sitting down. Shisui glanced up and nudged Itachi with a knee, smiling briefly before his expression sobered. Kakashi glanced up as well, but his expression hadn’t changed.

“Shishio has thirty guards, all of whom live in the keep. He has about fifteen officials and hangers on.” Kakashi tapped the list. “All of them will need to be eliminated.”

Shisui shook his head. “There’s a new batch—about ten, who are completely mercenary. They’d go with whoever paid them.”

“But they would fight with their current employer,” Kakashi added.

Shisui grinned, wild and crooked. “Not if they thought they’d already been offered payment to switch sides.”

Kakashi rubbed his chin. “A time release genjutsu of that nature would be tricky. Everything would have to be set extremely well.” Itachi nodded. The genjutsu would have to be time triggered, because they couldn’t risk anyone knowing even a hint of the upcoming invasion.

Shisui shrugged, lazy and confident. “It would be a cinch for me. Easy as breathing underwater.”

Itachi felt a sudden alarm. “No, you’re not using more genjutsu today.” Shisui glanced at Itachi, eyes narrowing just a bit.

“You just got over a major episode of backlash, and you almost relapsed this morning. The last thing you need to do is use more genjutsu,” Itachi countered, feeling as sick dread in his chest at the thought of Shisui becoming incoherent again.

Shisui rolled his eyes, expression scorn embodied. “These are tiny genjutsu compared to that.”

“Still, you’re not going to risk it,” Itachi commanded.

Shisui’s eyes became sharp and he sat up a little straighter. “Am I not? When did you become my mother?”

“She’s the one who asked me to look out for you,’ Itachi countered. Shisui’s face twisted sharply, contorting into anger and almost rage at Itachi’s words.

“You _said_ you didn’t remember!” The strain of childish grievance slipped in, and Itachi became suddenly certain Shisui would attack him.

“Not well! Only in bits and pieces.” Itachi moved and blocked a half lunge towards him, catching Shisui’s hand in his own as Shisui’s red eyes pinned him just as effectively as any hold. Distrust warred on Shisui’s face, twisting it up sharply. Itachi could see that Shisui _wanted_ to call Itachi a liar. He wanted to yell at Itachi, probably hurt him, but he didn’t. He stared, and Itachi nodded as if he understood what Shisui felt, or how he hurt. Kakashi stayed silent, but Itachi could feel him watching the private drama.

Shisui’s hand relaxed, and he looked away quickly. Itachi rubbed his aching hand and looked back to Kakashi, who had gone vague again. Itachi cleared his throat. “I can set the genjutsu.”

Shisui gave Itachi a scathing look, but Kakashi nodded. “And where will we get the money?”

Shisui scoffed. “From Shishio’s treasury. It’s almost empty anyway, and everyone will think it’s been embezzled.”

“I’ll assist Itachi with the genjutsu, perhaps you could, with your better knowledge of the castle, sneak into the treasury?” Kakashi asked, and Itachi wanted to applaud him for slipping Shisui the soft compliment and giving him something to do. Shisui shrugged, still upset, but willing to cooperate.

“Yeah, someone needs to help the bitty kid with setting up genjutsu,” Shisui sneered, purely hurtful.

“Itachi is better at genjutsu than I am, actually,” Kakashi mused _very_ absently as he rubbed his chin. “He’s quite talented for one so young.” Shisui shot Itachi another sharp look, one that obviously said “but I’m better.” Itachi lowered his eyes and wondered why he wanted to cry or scream. He hadn’t _asked_ for this. He hadn’t _asked_ to see Shisui’s dead mother. He didn’t deserve to have Shisui’s frustrations taken out on him! Itachi lowered his gaze and drank his tea. They planned out their routes and sealed the plans for the morning and tonight.

At Kakashi suggestion, they set a crow and a nin-dog on watch so they could all sleep in preparation for being awake for the next two nights. Itachi ate, then crawled into bed aware he might not sleep again for twenty-four hours, depending on how things went down. This would be a true test of his abilities. Everything up until this point had been, but these next twenty-four hours Itachi could point to and call a true test he could name the rules for and tell how he performed.

Somehow, he found that comforting. He thought, as he pulled the covers around his shoulders and arranged the kunai under his pillow, he would sleep well knowing what was coming. As Itachi listened to the room grow silent around him, he relaxed. Kakashi settled into his bed, and it became impossible to tell if he were awake or not. Shisui moved around the room, and Itachi had no idea where Shisui would choose to sleep. A soft bed didn’t seem to matter to him. In fact he seemed to prefer a hard surface.

As Itachi began to drift off, the bed sank down. A draft snuck in under the covers. The bed creaked and dipped again. The rustles of sheets being mussed and shoved pulled Itachi fully awake before a gently fisted hand touched his back. Itachi’s hand twitched on the blade in his hand, but Shisui only pressed his knuckles into Itachi’s back and then rolled over to curl his bony back into Itachi’s.

Itachi lay still, blinking into the darkness as each of Shisui’s shifts rubbed his spine into Itachi’s back, the space just above Itachi’s own spine. Itachi could feel Shisui’s heart beat and each of his breaths, drawn easily in and out. Itachi decided his own spine must be digging into Shisui just as much as Shisui’s dug into his back, but neither of them moved. Itachi drifted into sleep again, realizing sleepily Shisui slept between him and Kakashi and the window, probably armed with his own knife. Itachi felt his lips twitch into a smile before he fell asleep.


	12. Fragile Hands

_I, I can't promise you_   
_that I won't let you down_   
_And I, I can't promise you_   
_that I will be the only one around_   
_when your hope falls down_

_I ran away_   
_I could not take the burden of both me and you_   
_It was too fast_   
_Casting love on me as if it were a spell I could not break_   
_When it was a promise I could not make_

_But what if I was wrong?_  
  
Mumford and Sons - Hold on to What You Believe

I don't mean to sound bitter, cold, or cruel, but I am, so that's how it comes out. -Bill Hicks

* * *

 

Shisui knew he was being a big, water logged butt to Itachi, but he didn’t think he could stop.

The kid has practically _stolen_ Shisui’s chance to see his mother again, then hadn’t told Shisui anything about it. He hadn’t even said what she looked like. Sure, she’d drowned, so how could she look, but it still put Shisui’s hackles up. He woke up before Itachi or Kakashi and lay in bed, breathing deeply as he pretended to be asleep. Itachi had rolled over in the night, his small hands pressed into Shisui’s back. He was breathing on Shisui’s neck, deep, gentle breaths that were slightly damp.

Shisui still could not _believe_ how hard he’d fallen for this kid. Shisui had lived a pretty solitary life, but he’d been with enough people to consider himself pretty well versed in human interaction. However, what he’d stumbled onto with Itachi was something vastly outside his experience. Why? He didn’t know why. He just knew it was different, and a _totally_ different animal than the burning, consuming fever pitch of wanting to tumble someone into bed and be done with it. Minnows and toads, Shisui had only ever strung someone along for a week before deciding it was time for the rewards, and no matter how long he stuck around, he knew he wouldn’t be tumbling Itachi into bed anytime soon—or ever, really.

Itachi and what he felt was twice as dangerous as anything Shisui had ever encountered. Itachi made him feel _content_. There was anxiety there, yeah, resentment and some fear because the brat was the Uchiha’s little heir, but  Itachi could make him forget all that. Itachi could make him _want_ to forget all that and just immerse himself in the kid and everything that came with that.

Slowly, Shisui sat up and twisted to look at Itachi. He actually looked his age, face slack in a deep, deep sleep. He didn’t even stir as Shisui gently touched his cheek. That disturbed Shisui, because it meant Itachi was _really_ deeply asleep. It meant he was comfortable enough with Shisui that he would fall dead asleep, which ninja weren’t supposed to do. Shisui grimaced and poked Itachi again, getting no response as he rubbed his finger over the boy’s hot skin.

People were oddly squishy.

Shisui felt an itchy, anxious feeling in his chest and decided he should go. Now. Leave. He could meet up with them later, but, for now, he wanted to get _out of here_.

Shisui stepped out of bed and came face to face with a giant dog.

He screamed.

Kakashi came out of bed as if kicked, hand full of electrical sparks that shrieked in Shisui’s ears. Itachi came up a second later, but that was long enough for Kakashi to look back at Shisui, see there was no danger, and extinguish his chidori. Shisui decided there was no way to save face on this one, shoved Itachi back onto the bed, and hopped over it to get to the bathroom. He slammed the door sharply and leaned against it, listening to the distant murmurs of Itachi and Kakashi’s voices. Shisui pressed his back against the door. He looked at the small window in the bathroom and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then he flickered.

He hit the room with a crash and rolled half down before he gained his feet and flickered again, faster and faster _away_.

~

Shisui had no intention of going back on Itachi’s plan, not matter how much he wanted to.

Shisui found one of his stashes and dressed appropriately for the weather and an assault on Shishio’s mansion. He made what was probably going to be his last appearance at the _Heckler_ , the smallest and most bankrupt inn of the little town. Really, it was only an old woman selling meals out of her kitchen, but Shisui liked it. Shisui ate dried fish and listened to people pass by outside as the old woman who ran the place waited for customers that wouldn’t come. She was old, sick with something by her smell, and mostly blind. Shisui could have stolen everything in the place without her knowing.

He didn’t. The old deserved some respect. Shisui wondered if Itachi was worried, and if he and Kakashi had decided to change the plan. He wondered if Itachi was frantically trying to convince his companion that they should trust Shisui, and that Shisui wasn’t so volatile and dangerous they needed an entirely new plan. Shisui remembered Itachi’s small hands pressed to his back, and wondered if there was enough trust in such a small body to ever fully trust someone like Shisui.

He doubted it.

However, he knew that Itachi would cling grimly to this plan, because abandoning it and whatever faith he held in Shisui would only weaken his standing with Kakashi, something the child valued dearly. He wouldn’t hold out for faith in Shisui, but for the chance to not lose face in front of his comrade. Shisui sighed and stood, jangling the shells in his pocket as he leaned down and placed them in the old woman’s bowl.

“Shells? Shells to pay me?” The old woman poked at the shells in her bowl and turned her head, trying to find Shisui with her milky eyes. “Stealing and lying and thieving me? I’ll curse you.”

Th old might demand some respect, but Shisui had no money. It was all back at his hideaway, and he knew he would never go back there. “Just a temporary payment, old mother. I’ll bring you something better later.” Shisui lied easily, though, he supposed it might be the truth if things improved in this town.

“Oh, you— _you_ ,” The old woman snickered to herself. “Could have got yourself fed in the kitchens for free. I’d done heard you’d left again.”

“Not yet, old mother.” Shisui smiled. “I thought I’d stick around. Something interesting’s about to happen, after all.”

“Is it?” The old woman asked, cocking her wrinkled head and looking at Shisui with filmy eyes. Her white hair was sparse, pressed back against her skull. She’s lost most of her teeth already. Truly, Shisui thought she’d been old when he’d first met her years ago. Now she should be dead. Like his mother. Shisui felt his skin crawl and remembered what Itachi had said.

_You want to be acknowledged_.

Shisui remembered all of Kakashi and Itachi’s caution to make sure this attack was a surprise. Shisui smiled. “Surely, how can anything exciting happen here when I’m not around.” Shisui chuckled, mirroring the old woman’s snicker. He heard someone stir in the kitchen. The old woman’s daughter looked out of the door, someone Shisui had grown up with. She smiled at him almost fondly.

Shisui grinned. “I’m about to give this little island its greatest gift, old mother.” Watch him, mother. See what he could do. “A parting gift.”

“Going somewhere again?” The woman at the door asked, unsuprised. Shisui came and went with the tides, and everyone knew that. Shisui nodded, smile softening.

“I thought I would.” He couldn’t stay. He swept into a bow. “Forgive me, ladies, I must be on my way.”

“You still owe me.”

“I’ll pay you in full,” Shisui promised.

“Liar!” The old woman shrieked and threw the shells at Shisui. “Liar, thief, trickster!” Her bird like shrieks followed Shisui out into the street, where he laughed and dodged between the few curious people staring to see what had cause the ruckus. Shisui ducked into an alley and vaulted up onto the rooftops. Shisui stopped and looked over the tiny town, which he could only see in vague outlines from torches and fires. It was dark enough Itachi and Kakashi should already be in the keep. He took a deep breath and kicked off into the night, heading for Shishio’s fortress.

Truth be told, Shisui had snuck into this place a few times before. He’d mostly done it for the thrill of scaring Shishio’s concubines, and to say he’d done it. He’d done it originally to impress his mother, but she’d never come back to hear of his exploits.  After that, there wasn’t a soul on this island he could brag to, but, for one summer, the place had been deemed haunted. He’s lived off of stolen brooches and things, though he’d been forced to leave the island to fence them.

Getting in was actually easier than Shisui remembered it being. He scaled the black stone walls easily with chakra, and twice as fast as he had a few years ago. Shisui scrambled noiseless over the wall, pausing on the walkway to look for guards. They were both at their outposts a few feet away, oblivious to the shadow that had just scaled their wall. Shisui happily waved to one, then jumped down into the muted darkness of the courtyard. He’d come over by the officials quarters, though there were only a handful of those now. Most were asleep and old and half deaf, and Shisui took a moment to look around before he prepared to make his dash for the interior court yard, where he would find the main rooms.

The dirt crunched under a heavy step. Shisui froze and sank down into the shrubbery. Not too far from him was the leader of the mercenaries. He was drunk, unsurprising, all things considered. His face was red, his mustache bristling and thick. He was relieving himself in the bushes, staring vaguely out at nothing. Shisui felt a thrill prickle his skin, rushing warm from toes to mouth. Here presented itself a perfect opportunity to set a genjustu. He could slip in, set it, then be off to get the gold in no time. He knew he was better at genjutsu than Itachi, so why risk letting the kid do it? Itachi would be able to tell that someone else had done his work, and Shisui could smugly tell him later he’d done it.

He, on his own, could have carried out this silly mission Kakashi and Itachi seemed to think would take three nin to complete, not one. They were wrong. They underestimated him. He wasn’t like them, weak Konoha nin sheltered from the horrors of the war until they were “ready” to face it. Shisui sneered. You were never ready for the world, but you never had any choice but to face her. Shisui shifted into a deeper crouch, plucking at the best way to get close to the man without startling him. Not hard, but he should consider all his many options.

Something brushed against his leg. Shisui tensed and looked down. A small kitten had found him, and now rubbed against his leg, never questioning why there was a man hiding the the bushes. It purred loudly, looking up at Shisui with large blue eyes and a pink mouth it opened for a plaintive “Meeeoooow.” Shisui froze, but, thankfully, the man didn’t notice. He pulled himself back together and headed for the buildings, scratching as he went.  Shisui readied himself. The kitten butted its head against his knee.

Shisui gently pushed it away. “Back, puss, you’ll trip me up,” Shisui admonished it. He shifted, then sparng, across the yard and on the porch in a two count, then inside the building a moment later. Shisui sighed and headed for the treasurers office.  Itachi could work his own damn genjutsu. Shisui wasn’t going to pick up his slack.

Shisui wandered up the stairs, silent as a shadow as he snuck into the offices. He hardly even paused at the locked doors. Those were easy, supposedly safe inside the keep. After all, who would steal from Shishio?  Shisui had once or twice, but it was usually easier to con people down at the town. Shisui stepped into the outer office, then made his way to the locked coffer room. The “Master of the Treasury” slept in a small room to the left of the office, but Shisui would have to half bring down the place to wake the man up. He smelled like heavy smokes. It seemed vices were rampant in this keep, not that Shisui could blame anyone for wanting to drown out the drudgery of their lives.

Shisui did a quick check to make sure the books were in enough disarray that no one would be able to tell anything had been stolen by him, then smiled to himself and set to work on the harder lock of the coffer room doors. He idly wondered if Itachi would call such a skill one of use to a ninja, or one of use to a thief, and which Shisui was, since he was so proficient in his lock picking skills. Itachi probably couldn’t pick a lock—not like someone who’d been forced to do it over and over or starve. Itachi had probably never been hungry a day in his life. He was the spoiled, high bred scion of the Uchiha, why should he ever hunger?

Shisui scoffed to himself. No wonder Itachi looked so soft and doe-eyed all the time. Maybe doe-eyed was an exaggeration, but the kid had huge eyes. What kind of guy had eyes that big, really? There was obviously something wrong with his genes. Too much inbreeding. No wonder he was so weird. And hallucinated ghosts of dead women who would never waste her time on Uchiha brats.

Shisui felt the lock give and pushed his way inside. The coffer room looked emptier than he’d expected, but some of the chests should have something in them that would be of use. Shisui scowled. More work. He was hoping something had been left out for a little thieving mice, so he could just grab it and go. Maybe he should have taken the risk of snagging the keys from the treasurer’s room, since the man smelled senseless.

Shisui hefted the first chest and found it oddly light. Shisui fiddled with the catch and, surprise, the top opened with only a grating noise.

It was resoundingly empty. Shisui stabbed his kunai through the bottom, revealing there was no false bottom hiding anything good. Shisui grimaced and, with a feeling of growing dread, moved on to the next chest. It too was unlocked, but, like its friend, was empty. Shisui carefully riffled through the rest of the chests, all of wich were unlocked. He checked corners and thumped floors for hidden caches, and looked at walls for hidden doors. He found _nothing_. No gold, no jewels, not even a copper pieces to rub between his fingers. Shisui gave the dark, musty room a disgusted look.

It seemed Shishio had fallen on harder times than anyone knew. His handful of officials must own his ass now, or maybe they were just as broke as he was, and that was why they never paid for anything. Shisui sneered, having no sympathy for these men. Part of him, the part that had been getting louder since Itachi had shown up, asked if he were really so different from these men He stole and cheated and lied for his own benefit as did they. He’d killed and worse for money. Shisui refused to compare himself to these people. After all, he lived in a cave, not in a keep.

_And how does that make you better? It just means you’re not as good at swindling people as they are_.

Shisui scowled and closed the door of the coffer room. He locked it, leaving the place turned upside down for kicks and giggles. He probably shouldn’t have, but he didn’t feel like setting everything to rights. Let them think some spirit had come and stolen their money. Maybe they’d even blame him when he vanished.

Shisui smirked, and then he scowled.

He still needed payment for the mercenaries.

He could, of course, go raid Shishio’s personal chambers, thought the old man partied well into dawn. It would be exciting all right. Shisui closed the door behind him, leaving the treasurer slumbering peacefully and hurried towards the upper side of the Keep. Now he kept his ears peeled for noise and walked like a cat down the halls. He paused to listen, and, suddenly, an idea came to him with the scent of lavender.

The whores.

Shishio’s prostitutes would have jewels and other pretty baubles that could be used to pay the mercenary. Shisui beamed at his brilliance and scuttled off in a different direction, going more slowly now. Going _slow_ didn’t come naturally to Shisui. He’d been made to go fast, but he crept down the halls with what he thought was admirable skill. He had hoped everyone would be gone for the night, but as he slipped into one opulent, but sadly small room and started rummaging, he heard someone walking down the hall. He paused, then recognized the soft, tiny steps of a woman in a kimono. The cloth of the kimono dragged heavy on the ground, and Shisui could hear the woman trying not to cry as she took deep, shaking breaths every few strides.

Shisui tensed, hand clenched around a small pin with a pearl in it. Would she come into his room? Would he have to silence her? He’d have to make it look like a suicide, or people would wonder. Shisui held his breath and listened. He heard another set of steps behind the first, and the first set slowed. For a moment, Shisui thought the girl had brought a lover into the whore’s apartments, then he realized it was another woman following her. Shisui cocked his head shifted, getting ready to spring should she come in the door.

Slowly, the footsteps stopped. There was another sniff, and it sounded like she was right outside Shisui’s door. Shisui felt a crazy grin creep over his face, the red eyes whirring in his skull like tiny wheels as his body drew to the brink of readiness, nerves screaming at each other to _be ready_.

The door opened. The girl stepped into the room beside the one Shisui crouched in, sniffling and simpering as she lit a candle. The second set of footsteps followed her into the room more slowly. With the illumination, Shisui could see through the cracks in the wall, and silhouettes rose up on the rice paper walls. Shisui bit the tip of his tongue and shifted to peer through one of the larger cracks.

The girl—she was a girl, was probably Itachi’s age with a pale, pretty face and hair that feels in dark waves. Those waves would probably be curls if her hair were any shorter than it was, but no one wanted curls. Shisui thought ruefully of his own mess of curls and leaned forward a little more.

The second was an old woman, probably old enough to be Shisui’s grandmother. Her face was lined with wrinkles, her hair streaked with grey. She knelt with grace and took the girls hand in hers with a look of compassion tempered with control.

“I will drink poison before I sleep with him,” The girl said suddenly, her voice shaking but filled with that gods-awful conviction that teenagers often had when they thought they were being wronged. Shisui had heard that tone in his own voice, and his mother had always _laughed_  at him when he had.

“Aya….Tomoe, not this again. You father owes a great debt to Shishio…” Shisui used the cover of their voices to look through a few more boxes, then he slid out and moved to another room.

“Then let _him_ sleep with that—that bag of rotting flesh. He smells awful,” The girl’s voice rose with passion, and Shisui wondered if she had a guard she liked more. In the next room, Shisui found a hefty necklace that had to be worth _something_. There was only one other room, and he doubted raiding the servant’s quarters would help him much. They had probably less to their names than their lord, and more right to it in any case.

“You will, or Shishio will see you thrown into the sea, then your father will be disgraced and you’ll be dead,” The old woman continued, not unkindly.

“Then let him. Death if better than being violated by that _thing_ ,” The girl spoke the words with vicious conviction, and Shisui had to applaud. She was very articulate. Who could argue with that? Everyone had the right to choose their own death.

“You are speaking of our lord,” The old woman didn’t sound very vehement. She probably thought he smelled awful as well. Shisui paused as he passed the door and glanced back in. From this angle he could see the girls face. Tears gleamed on her cheeks, but, more interesting, a pearl the size of a small egg sat at her throat. The chain it hung on was also dripping with pearls, all lovely colors and the chain itself probably made with gold. That was probably something Shishio passed around to his most favored girls.

Shisui grinned.

He was going to take that.

The night was growing long, and the girl didn’t look like she would wind down very soon. If he wanted it, he would have to take it now, and he would _not_  leave it behind. Shisui shifted, wondering if he could genjutsu the women into sleeping, then, feeling a little more like his old self, he stepped into the room.

The old woman’s eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to scream, but Shisui was on her in a moment. He grinned like a mad thing, clapping his hand over the old woman’s mouth. He felt her teeth sink into his hand, but he showed no sign of it. In fact, the blood trickling out from under his hand was actually a very nice dramatic touch. Shisui approved and he shoved his face close to hers, letting his eyes go classy before he whipped his head around to look at the girl.

“Do you want him dead, this old, slavering man?” Shisui asked, his voice bells and whistles and the wind through a shell. He didn’t need chakra for this. He just needed to be himself. That would be more than enough.

The girl stared at him, too startled to be terrified. Shisui leaned over the old woman’s shoulder, eyes on the girl. She gave him rapt attention, mouth slightly parted, and Shisui could see why Shishio wanted her. She was lovely in a very odd way. Shisui approved, and, if he’d had the time, might have taken on the duty of deflowering her before the old man could get his hands on her. He mght just do it for the look on Itachi’s face when he gave the reason he’d taken so long.

The girl looked at the old woman, guilty, and then she squared her shoulders. “Yes. I wish he would die.” Her cheeks flushed with high color. The old woman made an anxious noise behind Shisui’s hand.

“Good girl.” Shisui smiled wider and extended his hand. “You know what you’re worth, so why don’t we seal this deal.”

“What do you want?” She asked. Like any good island girl, she knew when she owed a spirit, and she knew he’d keep his side of the bargain as long as she paid him well.

“That necklace. The old man gave it to you, right? It’s only fitting you should give it to me, so I can warm his bed for him tomorrow night instead of you.” Shisui let his grin gape open. The girl’s eyes widened and her cheeks paled. Shisui thought she might refuse. “It’s your face he’ll see before he feels the death blow in his chest.”

Painfully slow, she reached up and unclasped the necklace. In the flickering light, she handed it to him, holding her chin high, as if to say she wasn’t afraid at all. When her hand touched his, she looked, if possible, more shocked.

“You’re _warm_ ,” The girl gasped, and Shisui _laughed_ as he snatched the necklace into his hand. He threw the old woman down and flickered out the door and down the hall. The old woman shrieked then, and Shisui went rocketing down the halls, cackling all the way.

If Itachi figured out Shisui had destroyed their chances of utter secrecy, he would strangle Shisui with his own hands, reputation at stake or not. The chances the girl and old woman would keep there mouths shut were small, but Shishio probably wouldn’t hear of any of this before his death. Lower officials and the servants, probably, but the old man himself? Doubtful.

But that chance was one Itachi and Kakashi seemed to think was ludicrous to take.

Ah, well, Shisui had taken it for them. They’d have to deal with it.

~

Shisui found Itachi and Kakashi waiting for him. They were hidden well among the crags, and, if Itachi hadn’t stepped out, Shisui might have missed them. Shisui slowed to a jaunty saunter and gave them both him best smirk. Kakashi crouched motionless, and Shisui wondered if he were asleep.

“You’re late.” It sounded like a protest as Itachi materialized from the pre-dawn darkness.  He looked somehow smaller dressed in ninja black, bound and ready for war. It made him slimmer, and Itachi was already just a wisp of a child. Now he looked like less than that. He looked like something born from the night, only half tangible. Shisui felt the rising urge to _touch_ Itachi, just to make sure the boy _was_ real, but he didn’t. Instead he fisted his hands at his side and raised his head in a mocking manner, looking down at Itachi’s pale face and wide eyes.

“Sorry, I had to stop by and visit Shishio’s highly esteemed concubines,” Shisui let his smirk grow into a fanged grin, and Itachi frowned, lips pursed. “The treasury was sadly empty, so I had to improvise.” This he said cheerfully, and Itachi regarded him with suspicion.

“Robbing concubines?” Kakashi asked with only a flicker of movement. His face stood out even more in the darkness. He looked like a ghost or ghoul. Shisui felt his skin shiver. Tonight was a good night for ghosts and spirits of all kinds.

Shisui feigned hurt. “I’ll have you know it’s my rightly deserved payment!” Shisui roughly swung an arm around Itachi. “You see, when you are skilled enough, you can command any price you can dream up, even from such professionals as live in Shishio’s keep.” Shisui smirked, and Itachi regarded him with an odd blankness that probably held disgust. Shisui didn’t care. Let the little prude be offended. He wasn’t any better. A ninja’s body was simply a tool, and those who didn’t utilize a tool to the best of its ability didn’t really deserve to have it.

Shisui shoved himself away from Itachi, not caring that he jarred the boy, and hopped onto another rock.

“Don’t we have another engagement to make?” Kakashi stood slowly, nodding as he rose like some beast from the darkness to his full height. Damn, but he was tall! Shisui hoped he’d grow more. He’s always felt tall, but Kakashi made him feel short. Itachi, with his lankiness, would probably be tall when he finished growing. Probably still slender as a girl, but tall.

Pretty too.

“Did you hide the payment already?” Itachi asked as he stepped closer.

Shisui scoffed. “You think I’m some kind of idiot? I can follow simple directions, ya’ beached whale.” Shisui gave Itachi another shove and hopped up onto a rock. He glanced back at the Konoha-nin and set off into the darkness, shaking his head as he went. He heard a murmur behind him, and then Kakashi and Itachi followed. They went around the village almost to the black beach near Shisui’s old cave. Shisui wondered if he’d ever go back there, then ducked behind a stand of rocks and sank down, crossing his arms.

This wasn’t his drama. They could have this fun without him. Shisui closed his eyes, but he could feel Itachi stop near his feet. Shisui didn’t even twitch, and Kakashi shifted.

“I’ll get in position,” Itachi spoke softly, eyes still on Shisui. He was waiting, hesitating for something. Shisui didn’t give him anything, and the child left with hardly a sound. Shisui cracked open his eye and glanced at Kakashi. The first light of dawn had come now, making everything an odd, silent grey. Kakashi now looked like a walking corpse. He also looked sorely amused, which made Shisui want to punch him in the face.

“You got something to say?” Shisui asked, letting his voice slip into the harsh, choppy accent of the island. He hissed a little too.

“No,” The man sounded just as mused as he looked. “Just pondering the mysteries of the universe, and how fickle human emotions are.” Shisui absently wondered if the man had a good singing voice. There was an odd, melodic quality to his words that made Shisui think of song or light through the leaves of the trees.

Shisui bared his teeth. “Fuck off, then. I don’t need your judging eyes getting me all dirty. You two have gotten me into a boatload of rotted fish guts, and I’m only sticking around because it’s the best way to get out of this.”

Kakashi’s expression didn’t waver. Itachi would have flinched, or his face would have hardened. Shisui knew why. Kakashi didn’t care a wit what happened to Shisui. Itachi did. That made Kakashi much more dangerous to wheel and deal with, but, also, a lot more fun.

“That is one way of looking at it,” Kakashi agreed.

“You know, this fight’s gonna be your best bet to get rid of me without making the brat mad at you,” Shisui added, feeling his own gut seize up at the thought. He’d been pondering that for a while, and he really wondered if Kakashi wouldn’t try. The nin couldn’t like Shisui. Shisui was too unreliable. Too wild. Even Itachi couldn’t control him, and since he wasn’t loyal to Konoha, Shisui could only be a liability. Of course, killing Shisui would set Itachi, starry eyed love struck idiot he was, against Kakashi. No doubt there would be huge political ramifications for killing off the Uchiha heir’s first crush.

Shame shame, let the boy have his dreams.

“I had thought of that,” Kakashi mused, and, for a spine chilling moment, Shisui realized the man was being honest. Too honest as his eyes raked over Shisui, trying to find a weak point in the boy’s armor for later. Shisui felt his muscles begin to tighten, and then he forced them to relax and stared up at the man.

Had Itachi thought of this possibility? Was that why Itachi had originally not wanted Kakashi involved with this little song and dance they were putting on for the Mist girl? Had he been trying to protect Shisui? Before Shisui could move for a knife, Kakashi rose, pushing up the cloth that covered his red eye. He stared beyond Shsiui for a moment then, lightly, jumped onto the rocks.

“Itachi-kun.” Kakashi’s voice carried over the rocks. The show had begun. “I don’t think the terrain here will affect the mission.”  Shisui peered around a rock, making sure he was mostly hidden. Maybe his hair waving in the light breeze would look like a bush. The morning wasn’t really light yet, which could also help. Shisui could barely make out Itachi’s features, but he did catch the wide eyed look that Itachi shot him. Fear? Worry? Excitement? Shisui didn’t know.

“Perhaps…” Itachi turned to face his superior.

“We’re going to be late to meet our client,” Kakashi spoke the lazy threat, and Itachi smiled.

“Some things are more important than our little mission, Kakashi-san,”  Itachi didn’t move, but he suddenly <i>exploded</i> into steam and boiling water. Kakashi threw up his hands to save his face as he tried to move back. Shisui gasped as Itachi suddenly appeared behind Kakashi and, in one clean blow, decapitated the man.

Shisui stared, agape.

That was not part of the plan.

Kakashi’s headless body hit the ground with a hollow noise, and his head bounced and rolled among the rocks like a child’s ball. Shisui felt his stomach turned, half horrified, half delighted.

A sudden, sharp laugh rang out, and the woman from Mist appeared among the rocks, sauntering over to Itachi with delight as the small child picked up his partner’s head and held it gingerly. Those from Mist always had grisly humors, as Shisui could attest. Shisui shifted, aching to be closer. He didn’t trust this woman. He knew Itachi, alone as he was, would be too much of a temptation for her. After all, he had two very young eyes with a strong bloodline behind it. Kakashi’s was just second hand.

“I’m impressed with your brutality. I thought Konoha had all gone soft,” The woman’s voice sounded harsh in the morning stillness. Shisui shifted his position and crept closer, now behind the woman. He could see Itachi’s pale, thin face and Kakashi’s severed head. The head dripped bright red blood onto the ground, and Itachi’s hands were smeared with it, the tips of his fingers dark red.

“The Uchiha remember their roots,” Itachi responded in his very cold, formal voice. He offered out the head, and Shisui sank into a deeper crouch, his heart pounding and his mouth dry.

The woman’s hand touched Kakashi’s head, curling into the pale hair as she moved to take it from Itachi. Then, her free hand lashed out. Itachi kicked back, but the spray of poison from her hand still hit his face, and he stumbled back. Shisui moved, flickering as the woman threw Kakashi’s head at Itachi and tries to stab Itachi’s leg with the long knife she’d drawn.

Shisui gave up on finesses and simply braced himself as he slammed into her. They went crashing among the rocks, Shisui just as dazed as the woman as the air was smashed out of him, and his head struck the woman’s head with a dizzying force. He saw stars as he weakly tried to stab her before she stabbed him. Her blade cut into his arm, and Shisui shoved himself back, flickering away without proper preparation and landing in a heap on the ground. He lay

there for a moment, until he heard steel on steel and surged back to his feet, head spinning.

Itachi, _still_ wielding Shisui’s knife, came at the woman. He held one eye closed, but he moved well enough. Shisui, as he took a stumbling step, had a moment to appreciate that Itachi was _fast_. Not as fast as Shisui, perhaps, but fast. Faster than the woman he was fighting, thought Itachi was down to one eye now, and the woman had a longer reach and had to be stronger.

Shisui flickered closer, slamming to a stop near the woman and kicking out at her gut. She twisted away, and Itachi struck at the opening she’d left. She stepped back, stance hesitant as she remembered the game they’d played last time.  She ducked away, and, as Shisui darted to follow, he stepped on the mass of exploding tags. He felt the paper beneath his feet a fraction of a moment before they exploded and threw himself _back_ , flickering to try and escape the blast, but he still felt the explosion catch him. Shisui landed badly, stumbling back. His foot, the moment he set it to the ground, screamed. Shisui almost fell, feeling the awful pain of a burn scrubbed into rough rock, and the already angry cut from yesterday started up another stabbing pain.  His sandals had saved most of his sole, but his calf and the top of his foot were burned an angry red.

It didn’t matter. Shisui still needed to fight. He pushed the pain from his mind. Itachi now fought one on one with the woman, and he wasn’t fresh. The kid had been running around all night preforming genjutsu, and he probably hadn’t recovered full from yesterday, wiped out as he’d been. Itachi held his ground by his own razor wit and instincts, but he would falter. He would fall.

He would die.

For a moment, Shisui hesitated. If Itachi died, wouldn’t all Shisui’s problems be over? No one could blame him for this. The Mist killed Itachi on a mission. It would have nothing to do with a nameless informant who vanished into thin air. Perhaps he had died too. Suddenly, Shisui could be free of all this madness, and all he had to do was wait. Wait, and this woman would kill Itachi.

Unused to this terrain, Itachi’s foot got caught in the small crevice between two rocks. For a moment, it looked like he would recover with only a stutter, then, with a painful wrench sideways, he fell flat of his back in the rocks, head striking hard enough he went instantly limp.

The moment imprinted clearly on Shisui’s mind. Itachi’s small, black clad body lay among the equally dark rocks, his arms spread out. His pale fingertips showed white beyond the tips of his gloves. Shisui’s knife lay near-by, useless. Itachi’s hair had half escaped its confines, and Shisui wondered if he should have stayed to braid it. He knew how to do that. He’d braided his mother’s hair often enough. A cut stood out red on Itachi’s pale cheek, but his eyes were closed. His pink lips were slack.

The woman moved with a vicious grin on her face, her eyes alit with hunger. Shisui thought she’d forgotten her real prize would be to take Itachi alive and back to Mist to redeem herself. She wanted him dead. She wanted revenge.  In a moment, Itachi would be dead, and Shisui’s problems would be over. The blade streaked down towards Itachi’s chest, sunrise’s first real light catching on the blade. The flash was almost blinding. A shrieking noise filled Shisui’s ears.

Now or never. Live or die. Move or stay.

Shisui smelled blood and ozone—the smell that came after a close strike of lightning. Every hair on his body stood on end, and his chest _burned,_ a tingling sensation that raced through him, striking every nerve with an exhilarating pain. Shisui might have shouted. Everything went white. A jolt travelled up his arms, and he lost his grip on the knife he’d embedded in the woman’s throat. Her blood covered his neck. He tasted it as he fell back, limp as Itachi, except that only lasted for a moment, then his body twitched all over, muscles jerking painfully tight before loosening again.

Hanging above Shisui, who had landed half on Itachi when he’d fallen, the woman’s corpse dripped blood from her severed neck. A clawed hand had ripped through her chest, but that wound wasn’t bloody. It was charred. Cauterized, Shisui realized as he stared up at the woman’s suddenly empty face. She looked shocked.

The face that peered over her shoulder looked only amused.

“I thought you were dead,” Shisui managed. His tongue felt thick and fat. His body still tingled unpleasantly with the aftershocks of what had to be a light brush of Kakashi’s tide cursed chidori.

Kakashi smiled. “Itachi thought a decapitation might look more believable, especially if we had a real severed head to hand off.” The man just looked amused, and Shisui decided he would not ask where they’d gotten a severed head on such short notice. He didn’t really want to know and he _certainly_ wouldn’t give Kakashi the satisfaction of asking.

Shisui scowled, and Itachi twitched under him. Slowly, the kid opened his eyes. Kakashi pulled the corpse back, dragging his hand from its ruined chest.  Shisui, aching, pulled himself off of Itachi. Itachi lay still, blinking, and Shsiui wondered if he’d been badly concussed. That would be wonderful.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t make it in time,” Kakashi said as he looked at the corpse dispassionately. Shisui stared too and remembered the feel of the woman’s skin under his hands. He should find her name, he thought, then decided one more nameless, dead ninja wouldn’t matter to the world. The dead were dead. Why name them?

“Your faith in me is astounding,” Shisui quipped dryly as he reached over to touch his knuckles to Itachi’s cheek. He left a bloody smear on it, but Itachi’s eyes opened a little wider, and he looked at Shisui. In that look, Shisui knew Itachi knew Shisui had hesitated. Shisui felt a very rare sense of shame creep over him, but, slowly, Itachi smiled very gently, almost hesitantly before he closed his eyes again and turned his head into the pressure of Shisui’s bloody knuckles, smearing more blood over his face.

“Can you dispose of the body?” Shisui asked, though normally he would have taken the job. He knew the island best, and he could feed his favorite fishing hole or make an offering to the spirits that had treated him so kindly. He’d just have to trust Kakashi knew about burying bodies at sea. Kakashi regarded Shisui carefully, his gaze not quite as harmless as before, but, after a few tense moments, he shrugged, then nodded.

“Itachi has a first aid kit,” Kakashi added in some cryptic advisement that the crazy kids should patch each other up, _again_. Shisui felt his foot and leg begin throbbing and grimaced as he pulled his hand back from Itachi’s cheek and watched Kakashi heave the body onto his shoulder and begin to walk away. As he watched, Shisui felt cold little fingers sneak between his own fingers, sliding in the blood as they linked in and pressed tight. He could feel the bones in those fingers, tiny as they were. He could feel how fragile they were, and his heart pounded in his chest as he realized what it meant to love something so small, so young, so _fragile_ it felt like it might break under his gentlest touch.

In an instant everything could be taken from you by simple happenstance.

Shisui watched Kakashi vanished from sight and finally understood why his mother had never quite loved him properly.


	13. Chapter 13

We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone.-Orson Welles

_I know that things are broken_   
_And though there’s too many words left unsaid..._   
_But please don’t cry, you liar..._   
_And you lean in for your last kiss_   
_Who in this world could ask me to resist_   
_Your hands cold as they find my neck_   
_Oh this love that I've found, I detest._   
Liar-Mumford and Sons

 

* * *

 

Itachi woke up with an aching head and sodden mind, curled under heavy blankets in a dark little hovel. For a moment, he felt even too confused to even be alarmed that he didn’t know where he was, then, slowly, the past events fell into place. After killing the woman from Mist, they’d come to the little cove to wait for their employer to arrive. Itachi, much to his chagrin, remembered Kakashi had carried him here, while Shisui had limped along silently, his dark eyes troubled every time he glanced at Itachi. Itachi didn’t know if the other was worried, or if he regretted not letting the woman finish Itachi off.

Itachi gingerly touched the back of his head as he sat up. It had been doctored with the chakra laced cream, but there would be no healing any brain bruising that had happened. Luckily, Itachi only felt a touch of dizziness as he stood. His head throbbed monstrously, but it didn’t hurt sharply enough to worry him. Bruised, and maybe a little consussed, but he would be functional for tonight. The rest had probably helped, and Itachi, as he stepped out of the hut, realized it was close to sundown.

The old man sat outside the hut by a fire, boiling something into a thick soup. He looked up at Itachi with distaste, and Itachi pushed his hair behind his ear. It had come down by now, probably tangled and dirty from the salve Kakashi had worked into his scalp earlier. Itachi didn’t know that he’d packed a brush when they’d left the inn this morning—last night. Whenever they’d left. Itachi resisted the urge to rub his forehead and found he was still staring at the old man, who stared back.

Perhaps he should be a little more concerned about the head trauma than he’d first thought.

“I suppose you want something to eat too?” The old man grumped as he peered at Itachi.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Itachi allowed. He didn’t feel hungry, but he knew he needed to eat anyway. If he collapsed and had to be carried, he doubted they’d even consider letting him into ANBU. Too young, too small, and unable to keep himself fed would certainly get himself struck from the roster. Or maybe that was the influence of head trauma and Shisui talking. Either way, Itachi bowed slowly, trying to save his head from the throbbing pain.

The old man grunted something and ladelled out some of the thick, chunky soup into a bowl for Itachi. The bowl looked like it was made from driftwood, and Itachi wondered how far it had travelled as he took its smooth surface in his hands. Next, the old man offered Itachi a shell to eat with. Itachi bowed his head and mumurred a thanks to the man, eying the plain brown and white clam shell.

“You’re a fool, you know,” The old man muttered.

“I’m sorry?” Itachi straightened, pulling himself to his full height. The old man didn’t look impressed.

“Trying to make a pet out of something wild like that one,” The old man motioned and Itachi glanced to the side. Too his surprise, Shisui sat out by the water, on the rocks Itachi and Shisui’s mother’s ghost had sat on not too long ago. Itachi felt a chill crawl down his spine, prickling each nerve sharply.

“I don’t want him to be a pet,” Itachi protested. He turned his head and regarded the old man, then looked back at Shisui. Itachi licked his lips.

“So what do you want? If it’s excitement, you’ll get way more from him then you want, trust me,” The old man made an amused wheezing noise. “Always thought I could make something of his mother, but you could better hold onto seafoam than that woman. He’s not any different.”

“Did you know his mother well?” Itachi asked, gazing out at the dark sea now and realizing he rarely ever heard the waves unless he listened for them now. He’d probably miss them when he got back to land. Did Shisui miss the ever present sound of the waves when he went ashore? Had he ever gone far enough from the sea to not hear the waves, or had he been too timid, or never seen the point in journeying so far inland?

“I wouldn’t say I knew her well, but I knew her habits and her ways pretty well. Not saying I understood the tide swept woman,” The old man spit. “Half spirit, that one. Didn’t even leave a warm place in the bed she did. Showed up in my boat one night drenched and pregnant, demanding I take her to shore…” The old man stared at the bay as well, eyes lost in old memories. His eyes shifted to Shisui, and Itachi wondered what Shisui had looked like as a child.

“She wasn’t a good mother. Or a good lover. Too selfish and violent and impulsive. When she wanted to do something, she had to do it, and you’d think she’d die if she didn’t.  She almost let him starve a few times.” The old man jerked his head towards Shisui. “She did, couldn’t stay long enough to nurse him enough. Never thought he’d live to grow old.”

“He’s not old,” Itachi protested.

“He won’t get much older. His mother didn’t.” The old man responded. Itachi considered this.

“How old was she when she died?”

“Well, she had him when she was seventeen or so…” The old man hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Not even thirty, but she had better sense them him, and a child that kept her half alive at least.”

“That’s what I want,” Itachi said, and the old man looked startled.

“A _child_?” He looked at Itachi incredulously, as if he expected Itachi to have suddenly sprouted breasts.

“No, I thought I wanted what was best for him, but then I just wanted him to be happy…” Itachi watched Shisui’s back and wondered if he could hear what they were saying. “I want to give him something to live for. I don’t want him to live his life alone.” The old man still looked skeptical, but Itachi just smiled and walked away, towards Shisui.

Someone had taken off his boots, so his feet sank into the sand. It held the sun’s warmth still, and Itachi didn’t bother hiding his approach from Shisui. Shisui didn’t turn his head, but Itachi climbed onto the rocks to sit in his shadow and eat. The soup tasted thick with strange spices and fish.

“Are you still angry with me?” The question dropped heavily into the air and hung there as Shisui didn’t move, and Itachi tried not to make a mess with the shell spoon he’d been given.

Itachi glanced at Shisui’s hunched back. His wild hair blew with the sea breeze, just as wild as it had been the first day they’d met. He had sticks in it too. Dirt and even a small, small shell. Itachi smiled to himself, and thought how disgusted he would have been with Shisui’s hair before. Now it just made him want to laugh, even if Shisui was mad and had been _terrible_ lately.

Shisui heaved a huge sigh. “Yes and no and I don’t even care anymore. I mean…” Shisui waved his hands and shook his head. “How would _you_ feel if the ghost of your mother only spoke to your newest toy?”

“So you are still mad at me,” Itachi decided. Shisui got very mean when he was angry, though that wasn’t on par with the other things Shisui had done in his meanness.

Shisui made an aggrieved noise in the back of his throat and then turned to look at Itachi. He scowled. “You’re using the shell wrong.”

“I’ve never eaten with a shell before. How am I supposed to use it?” Itachi asked patiently.

Shisui scowled. “You’ll figure it out. Or you’ll make a mess. Either way.” He shrugged and Itachi reached over and pinched the back of Shisui’s calf _hard_. Shisui jumped and yelped, slapping at Itachi’s head. Itachi ducked and took another sip of his soup, head spinning crazily.

“Stop being a brat. We’re going to have to work tonight,” Itachi chastised as he looked up at Shisui. Shisui scowled, angry, bitter, hurt, and maybe very confused.

“Sometimes I really hate you,” Shisui said. Itachi supposed that should have stung, but he nodded.

“I hate you too sometimes.” More often than that Shisui frightened him, though he would never admit _that_. Itachi had never been around such an unpredictable person before, though he suspected that was why he liked Shisui so much. He was so different from everything and everyone Itachi had ever dealt with before it made everything a challenge. Exciting and above all dangerous.

“So why stick around?” Shisui grumbled and angled his body away a little more.

“Because I do like you, and you’re interesting. I think…well, I’m very sure we could be good friends and good partners…” Itachi paused to consider his next words carefully. “And your mother asked me to watch out for you. I don’t think I should ignore what she says.”

Shisui scoffed. “Smart minnow.” After that, Shisui sank into contemplative silence, brows drawn down in vicious thought. Itachi continued to eat his soup slowly, wondering when he should set out to meet with Kakashi. Soon. Probably. The sun was edging closer to the horizon. It would soon be night. The mission would be over tomorrow morning, and then Kakashi and Itachi would leave.

Shisui still hadn’t said whether or not he would come with Itachi to Konoha. He couldn’t stay on the island, but would he come all the way to Konoha? To the Uchiha he so despised? Itachi wasn’t even sure taking Shisui to Konoha would be a good idea, but he couldn’t think of a safer option for the boy. That, and he selfishly didn’t want to allow Shisui to waltz out of his life. Konoha could stand to be shaken up by a  trickster from Mist for a while.

Shisui took a deep breath. “I just wish I’d seen her. It’s been so long—why didn’t I even see her?”

Itachi remembered the woman’s pale, cold skin. He wondered how she’d looked when she was alive, because he doubted she had looked quite that pale or been that cold. “Maybe it’s better you remember her as she was,” Itachi murmured as he scraped the last of the soup out of his bowl.

“I should go meet with Kakashi. Can you handle things here?”

Shisui gave Itachi a jaundiced look. “Better than either of you.”

“Such faith,” Itachi countered lightly as he stood. “In the morning, then.”

“Wait…” Itachi glanced back. Shisui looked back over the sea, face lit by the sun’s dying light. He still looked wild, like some street urchin or spirit he always so boastfully claimed to be. Shisui didn’t turn to look at Itachi, simply drummed his knuckles on the rock. He did look like his mother, only compared to her he didn’t look wild at all. He was half tamed and far less terrifying.

Probably because he cared about what happened to Itachi, even just a little.

“Let me braid your hair for you before you go. It’ll get in the way if it’s down.” Shisui still didn’t glance away from the sea, but Itachi smiled anyway as he nodded.

~

Freshly braided and only a little dizzy, Itachi headed for the village. If he hadn’t been so keyed up, he might have fallen asleep in Shisui’s lap while he’d picked out tangles with a tenderness that shocked Itachi. More shocking had been the way, when done, Shisui had pressed his fingers to the back of Itachi’s neck, behind his ear. Shisui had added a “and you’re dead, ”  but Itachi took it was a warning to be careful.

Itachi walked in wearing his disguise, wondering if people would think to ask where he’d , been these past few days. The scholars had vanished, and since Kakashi and Itachi didn’t intend to use the disguises again, it didn’t matter. Tomorrow morning they would be gone. Still, Itachi pawed through his mind for a plausible reason for his sudden absence. As Itachi walked through the oddly quiet streets, he realized no one would care. No one was around to see him. Something had happened.

Something was wrong.

Itachi felt his awareness growing painfully sharp as something like panic built in him. What had he done wrong? What had he missed? What would happen now? Itachi headed slowly for the manor, keeping to the shadows like the thief he was.

What he found there didn’t explain anything.

Two severed head were set on spikes above the gates. The ground below was coated with blood. Something had happened, but what? As Itachi stared and tried to recognize the faces—he did almost recognize one, he felt something behind him. Itachi whirled, knife out, and came face to face with Kakashi. Behind his mask the man was grim and Itachi’s heart sank.

“We have a small problem.” The lightness of his words was belied by the darkness in his face. It wasn’t a small problem. Itachi realized one of the heads was the mercenary leader Itachi had placed a genjutsu on last night. The other was a woman. Itachi’s stomach lurched. His face paled. He would be sick. He had messed it up. Somehow, things had gone wrong. His genjutsu must not have held. He should have let Shisui do it. He shouldn’t have been so insistent on proving himself. Shisui would have done a better job, and now Itachi had botched everything. Now he had killed people who should have lived.

“They know what’s coming, don’t they?” The words came out hollow.

“They know something is coming,” Kakashi agreed. “I’m not sure they know what exactly, but we can’t allow them to be on alert when our employer arrives.” Kakashi didn’t have to spell it out, but the words crawled out of Itachi’s mouth anyway.

“We have to clear the castle before he arrives,” Itachi managed. It didn’t sound like his voice. He could see the slaughter in his mind’s eyes. “Everyone from the servants up.” Because important people could be hidden anywhere now that they had a chance to be concerned.

Kakashi nodded. “That would be the wisest course of action.” The simplest, most brutal, and most ninja way of action.

Itachi felt certain he would be sick. The world around him seemed to shrink and grow. Hot and cold in pricks washed over him.

“What happened?” He could scarcely make the words come out. He knew. He felt certain he knew. He had caused this. There would be carnage in the streets. He could smell the scent crawling into his nose already. The ripe stench of death would be followed by the putrid stench of dead bodies. Scavengers would move in and the slow deformation of death would be quickened at a gruesome pace. Bowels would spill out. Ropes of intestines would be ripped apart, and the eyes were always the first to go. Itachi felt his own eyes ache.

Just look at the heads. The soft tissue was being ripped apart by crows as Itachi watched. The sound was so loud it deafened him The only thing louder was the pounding of his heart, and the ragged snatch of his breathing.

“Itachi-kun.” Kakashi’s cool hand touched the back of his neck. The pressure on such a vulnerable area froze Itachi, who realized he was crouched and trembling. He was all over in a cold sweat. His muscles felt locked when they weren’t jerking spasmodically in shivers. Itachi swallowed the taste of bile and blood in his mouth, focusing on Kakashi’s presence close behind him.  His fingers tightened momentarily on Itachi’s neck in an oddly comforting gesture.

Itachi didn’t know how long it had been since he’d spoken, or if Kakashi had answered his question. He swallowed and tried to draw his frayed nerves and senses back under his usual rigid control. He was afraid it would take a while, but Kakashi crouched down as well, far closer than he would have normally been. Their knees brushed, and Itachi wondered if Kakashi was taking pity on him or trying to make sure they both stayed hidden. Itachi felt like a rabbit crouched under the protective shadow of a hawk. He shook like one.

“What happened…well, the villagers don’t know all the details, but I think I have the gist of it down. You recognize the man’s head?” Kakashi asked calmly, his tone low and ridiculously soothing. Itachi nodded. He’d held that man’s head between his palms last night, and now the man was dead. Itachi rubbed his hands together, as if he could feel blood on them. The movement felt convulsive and out of his control.

“It seems the man was fond of one of Shishio’s concubines—a very young sweet thing to hear everyone tell of it. Last night the young woman was evidently visited by a spirit and became convinced that Shishio would be murdered before he could lay hands on her. When she failed to appear to him last night, Shishio called her to him this morning. Being very distraught, the girl started weeping and begged for forgiveness for not appearing last night, saying she was only a weak woman and couldn’t be held to men’s standards.” There was a wry tone in Kakashi’s voice. Considering they had almost been killed by the woman from Mist, Itachi thought women should be cut no slack for their sex. After all, Itachi couldn’t have gone one-on-one with the woman at all. She would have taken him down.

“She wasn’t as meek as she appeared. Later, when Shishio was quite drunk and decided to defame her father’s name and her virtue, she assured him that he would die before he could steal her virtue from her. He asked if she was so sure, and if some champion had come to rescue her from the fate her father gave her. She said yes, and her chambers were searched while she was given over to torture. She of course told the guards she had paid a spirit to do it, but Shishio doesn’t seem to be as superstitious as many people in the village. He found letters to the mercenary captain in the concubine’s things and promptly decided that they were in league against him and had them publically executed to set an example.” Kakashi cleared his throat. “They could find no evidence of the man’s treachery, but he seemed guilty enough to Shishio.”

Itachi swallowed as Kakashi related the tale as if he were telling a child a bedtime story. Charming. Itachi forced his hands into knots and his stomach dropped. It wasn’t his fault after all. It was Shisui’s. Therefore it was Itachi’s because he had trusted Shisui with this task and he’s messed it up. Itachi still wanted to be sick, but a surprising anger rose up in him. If Shisui hadn’t taken such a stupid risk, this wouldn’t have happened! Itachi wouldn’t have to kill so many people.

“They’re waiting for us,” Itachi realized. He looked at Kakashi. “Even if Shishio doesn’t believe in spirits, everyone will be one alert in case the conspirators had outside help.”

Kakashi nodded. “He’s threatened the villagers as well. If any aid is given, or enemy combatants appear, he’ll torch the town.”

Itachi swallowed again. Now his mouth was dry. “We need to clear out the fortress silently, and then find the men who are supposed to torch the town and kill them.”

“You’ll work from the inside out—Shishio and then those below him. I’ll stay on the outside.” Kakashi’s face was now hard, and he stood. “I’ll start in the village and work my way in to you.” Kakashi would have the harder fights, but Itachi would have to kill more people. He swallowed thickly.

“Let’s go.” Itachi stood. “It must be done before our employer arrives.” Itachi’s hands shook, but he thought he saw a glimmer of approval in Kakashi’s face before they broke apart and went their separate ways, both trusting the other would do his job.

~

Itachi remembered the layout of the manor from last night and snuck in with only one close call. Too soon he found himself crawling through Shishio’s door. The room was lit by a brazier and candles. The warm light cast flickering shadows, and the man himself sat by his bed, drinking. He was smaller than Itachi had thought he should be, gaunt instead of fat with thinning hair drawn back in a queue. He smelled like unwashed body from here. Itachi stepped from the shadows with a soft exhalation. Kill the man before he turned around, as he drank himself into a stupor.

Shishio was muttering under his breath.

“Damn devil woman came back one last time. Never should have let her live. Should have hung her.” He breathed out shakily, and Itachi heard a sound that had become familiar to him over the past few weeks. It was the sound of someone fingering charms. It sounded as if Shishio had quite a few. For a moment, the thought sparked amusement in Itachi’s mind. No charm could stop him, or Shisui for that matter. They were only men of flesh and blood. Easier to kill, but they played by their own rules and broke their promises with a disgusting ease. No charms could save Shishio, thought it had probably amused Shisui’s mother to let him think that they could.

“Devil woman. I knew you didn't die when we threw your body into the sea, devil woman,” The man kept muttering, which helped to cover the soft sound of Itachi’s boots on the ground. “Devil woman—I’ve seen your devil child in my streets, but I could never catch him. They always hid him from me. Now is he the one bringing disaster on me? You’re sending him to finish your curse.”

As Itachi drew his knife, two things occurred. One, a movement on the bed suddenly resolved the mess of sheets into the shape of a woman. Two, Itachi realized he was drawing Shisui’s knife. He didn’t stop, but his movements stuttered. The woman saw him, her eyes flashing wide. She began to jerk back, mouth opening. The sheet fell away from her naked body. Unlike Shisui’s mother’s ghost, her skin was pink and dry.  Her neck and breasts lined in what looked like bite-marks.

All this registered as Itachi’s knee hit the bed. He clamped his hand over the woman’s mouth, feeling the slick slide of whatever was one her lips against his skin. He slashed quickly, severing her arteries, veins, and windpipe in the same blow. He couldn’t escape the blood. It splashed over him as he shoved off the bed, knife angling for the back of Shishio’s neck.

Itachi, used to a thinner knife, found unexpected resistance as he tried to shove the knife upward from the base of Shishio’s skull. The man’s body spasmed. Itachi felt the knife jar on bone, shoving the man forward instead of sliding cleanly through. Itachi got his hand around Shishio’s forehead and yanked back, breakin the man’s neck and shoving the knife fully into his neck.

Itachi tried to remove the knife and found it stuck. He scowled and worked with the blade, wriggling it back and forth as he tried to get it free.  It wouldn’t come. He was wasting time. Itachi should leave it. The sight of it called Shisui to mind. Itachi felt another surge of anger at Shisui—that he would let this happen. That he would have risked them as he had. The blade came free with a sickening grate. Itachi felt his stomach twist and turn. Anger mixed with revulsion as the smells of death registered. Itachi glanced back at the dead woman on the bed. His mouth felt dry. His body felt numb.

It had been so easy.

Shishio’s body fell from the chair, landing unceremoniously face down. Itachi jumped at the sound of dead flesh hitting the floor and found he was shaking. He didn’t know if he shook from anger or shock, but he knew it wasn’t good. Itachi shook his head. He clamped down on the anger and something like panic, slowly boxing them down as he ghosted for the exit of the room. He had a job to do. Later he could think about it. Now, he simply needed to kill. That was what he was. A killer. Plain and simple and messy. Itachi sheathed the knife bloody and hurried out of the room to the official’s bedrooms down the hall, trying his best not to think about how many men he would have to kill tonight.

The next three kills were easy—Itachi slit the throats of men lying in bed with Shisui’s knife. The next proved more difficult. A man, woman, and teenager were up playing a game. Itachi took the woman and teen down with a kunai through their eyes and slit the man’s throat.  Their deaths were only moments apart. Itachi wondered if they had been family, then reminded himself not to think. There were three more officials to deal with, and then the rest of the house. He couldn’t afford to start _thinking_.

Itachi swept the building systematically, killing anyone he found.  He spiralled out, going from less important victims to more, but everyone had to die. After all, if Shishio suspected something, he could have hidden someone important anywhere. The person waiting to signal the burning of the village could be anyone. If Kakashi had missed any of the fire setters outside, the village could go up in flames. Ironically, this would probably make the villagers more pleased to see someone other than Shishio taking control of the island.

Itachi swallowed bile as a girl—maybe his age, dropped to the ground. She rolled down the stairs with a loud thumping, limps waving limp as she rolled like a broken doll. Maybe it was lucky few children worked here. Few families stayed here, and most of the young people left for greener pastures than these black rocks.

Itachi flitted down the stairs, feeling much like a spirit himself as he descended. He didn’t feel real. His body felt distant or totally numb at times. He wished, briefly, Kakashi had let him take the fighting men outside. Itachi job was simple. Easy, but it was simple slaughter. Itachi gripped Shisui’s knife and headed down into the servant's quarters, silent death. A black clad massacre.

A small child with a blood blade clutched in his trembling hand, covered from head to toe in the mark and evidence of his trade.

~

The men arrived on time. Kakashi killed the men lying in wait to torch the town, who were easy to find with his dogs. Their employer took an empty castle with no resistance, which pleased him. He made no mention of the massacre inside. His men were already removing the bodies. The town stayed silent and dark, the villagers too cautious to come out and face whatever force marched in the night. Itachi sat on the stone rampart and watched the men below boil in under torch light and slowly softening morning light. Kakashi stood nearby, watching the town.

“It’s quiet so far,” Kakashi spoke idly, but Itachi felt he should muster a response. A nod. Something to indicate he was happy with that. Instead he stared, feeling the blood dry on his body. His mouth tasted like blood. No one had injured him, but his body ached. He’d bitten almost through his tongue at some point. Itachi swallowed. Bile and blood. Bile and blood.

A knife was still clenched in his hands. Shisui’s knife. Itachi now stared at the drying blood on the blade and shook his head. Back and forth. Back and forth. It made him dizzy. He’d forgotten his concussion while working. It must not be that bad.

Kakashi’s fingers on Itachi’s forehead arrested the movement. Itachi glanced up, but Kakashi stared out at the village. He slowly shifted his gaze and dropped his fingers. “And here comes our most venerable employer.”

The sun was rising. Itachi blinked at the small but well armored man who mounted the rampart. He was grinning—a vicious white slash in his face. Itachi stared through him. The man looked at them uncertainly. Their employer. The man who had ordered this slaughter. No, Kakashi and Itachi had decided it needed to be done. Shisui had been the cause of it. The man himself had been rather lenient with his instructions. He’d been trying to protect his own men from death.

“We didn’t clean up. Sorry for that,” Kakashi didn’t smile. The man looked uncertain. Itachi thought he should be.

“You’ve done good work.” The man’ eyes kept sliding to Itachi. Itachi didn’t bother to sit up straighter or attempt to look older. Proof of his capabilities were all round them. Why try to prove what he so obviously was? Why did it matter if they perceived him as a child when they knew he was a killer? Being a child didn’t make him any less dangerous or capable.

Kakashi nodded deeply, almost a bow. “Our mission is complete. We’ll be moving on in a few hours.”

Oddly, the man looked relieved. “Nothing more for you to do here, is there?” The man looked at Itachi now. Itachi looked back. Ah, Itachi realized. He wants me gone. He’s unnerved.

He’s _frightened_.

Itachi didn’t think anyone had even been frightened of him before.

Itachi smiled, and he saw their employer’s face grow pale. Kakashi’s head tipped like he might look back to Itachi to see what had prompted that reaction. Itachi lowered his head and looked at the knife in his hand. He dropped it.

It hit the ground. Itachi expected it to shatter, but it didn’t. Instead it clanged loudly, making their employer jump.

“We should go.” The words came out blank. Like a sheet of white paper. Itachi found they tasted odd in his mouth. Now Kakashi looked back at him. With ease, Itachi vaulted over the stone parapet and fell to the earth. He landed and rolled, then translocated to the shadows of the buildings. Kakashi would come soon. Itachi waited in the darkness and watched. He didn’t want to listen to the nervous man talk. He wanted a hot bath.

“Well, that went smoothly,” A cheerful voice spoke, and Itachi felt his hair stand on end. He felt Shisui behind him, a burning presence at his back. Itachi remembered how a few hours ago that same presence had been comforting beyond words as Shisui had braided his hair back.

“Did it?” Itachi turned his head and looked at Shisui. His wide, fanged grin laughed back at Itachi. He didn’t care so many men had died. He only cared that he’d had his fun. Maybe this had all been a trick played by Shisui. Maybe he’d known what would happen and had laughed to himself about it. Maybe he’d enjoyed the thought of forcing the soft Konoha Uchiha brat to slaughter men and woman.

“What, you thought I couldn’t handle escorting a group of armed men through my island?” Shisui scoffed. “So little faith.” After all of his confusion and depression, Shisui finally looked back in his element. His eyes were bright. His mouth laughing. Wide open. Excited.

“You’re the one who couldn’t steal from some concubines without blowing our mission out of the water,” Itachi returned, the vagueness firming into something else. He remembered the knife in his hand. The blood pouring over his skin. He could feel it drying and flaking. Itachi took a sharp, quick breath that hurt. His body felt too tight and concentrated.

Why did it hurt?

“What?” Shisui looked shocked. He stepped back, brows drawing down. He looked more like he doubted Itachi. “But everything went okay—Kakashi told your guy that. I heard it.”

Something snapped. Like a bone breaking, but instead of pain there was a rush of hot emotion. Itachi didn’t know exactly what it was, but it felt like a blow hammering against the inside of his skin. Blood flushed into his face. “No.”

Shisui stopped, blinking his brown eyes. Why hadn’t Itachi realized before now how _childish_ Shisui was? He was selfish and petulant and impulsive. He wasn’t at all what Itachi had thought, was he? Itachi had been too blinded by his silly infatuation with Shisui, and stripped bare of the beguiling rush of hormones and emotions, Itachi saw Shisui clearly. He saw the essence of what Shisui was, and it wasn’t anything quite as wonderful as what Itachi had imagined it to be.

“No, because of you—because you couldn’t do _one simple thing_ without showing off, everything went down the gutter. That concubine you talked to last night gave us away.” So she ended up dead and tortured because of Shisui. So everyone had to die. Because Shisui had to show off. Because he couldn’t stay quiet in the shadows and do his _job_.

Itachi now realized that he’d advanced on Shisui. He still felt too hot. Burning. Itachi gulped. “Because of _that_ —“ Shisui hardy counted a person. He was a cause. A problem. This thing that had made everything go horribly wrong when Itachi had spent _weeks_ making sure it would go right. “We had to _clear_ the fortress. Everyone dead. _Everyone_.” They could have left some alive if Shisui hadn’t messed up. If he hadn’t been so stupid.

“Do you think any of them were really worth saving?” Shisui asked abruptly. Itachi felt as if he’d been splashed with cold water. He stared at Shisui, the heat draining from his body. His muscles were drawn too tight. Shisui smirked—a long slow twisting of his lips into a new shape. An old shape, but one Itachi didn’t find amusing now.

All he could remember was the smell of blood.

Itachi’s punch took Shisui by surprise. It connected hard, doubling him over, but Itachi wasn’t fresh. He was exhausted with muscles that tried to lock in place as he moved. Shisui reacted quickly, and in three moves he had Itachi shoved back against an alley wall, pinned. Stuck.

“It’s not _your_ place to judge!” Itachi hissed.

“They would have died anyway,” Shisui countered, slamming a shin hard across Itachi’s to keep the boy from kicking him. His body almost blocked everything out. Itachi felt everything close in on him. His body shivered in jerks. Shisui was too big. Too dark. Too everything and Itachi didn’t think he could breathe.

“That man—your employer would have killed them anyway,” Shisui demanded, silver genjutsu in his words. Itachi felt revulsion rise up inside of him. What had he said? He’d told Shisui to never use genjutsu on him again. Not without asking, but Shisui wasn’t the kind of person to keep a promise.

“It’s not that big a deal, Itachi.” The words were warm. Beautiful in themselves as Itachi felt the push of chakra against his tired, aching mind. It felt good. Like the chills after a touch or the drawing of a hand through the hair, but it all fell flat. Itachi realized it felt good, but he didn’t really _feel_ it. Just knew it felt good, though his body couldn’t process that feeling right now.

“ _But I wouldn’t have been the one to kill them_ ,” Itachi didn’t know if the words came out as a shout or not. If he just thought them hard. They seemed to bash into the front of his skull. “Get off. Let me go.” Itachi snapped, trying to get Shisui off. His body didn’t move like he thought it should. His panicked increased.

“Itachi---” Liar silver voice so smooth to the ears.

“Bloody ash, get off!” This time it was a shout.  Suddenly Shisui’s hold loosened. Itachi almost jerked free, then something slammed his head back into the wood. He didn’t know what it was. For a moment fear raced through him, then he realized Shisui’s lips had crashed into his own. Shisui’s body was pressed into his, and Shisui’s hands were not holding him so much as pressing into his flesh. Pressing him back into the wood, compressing him into a smaller shape. For a moment it felt like Shisui might be holding him together, then Itachi knew he would be crushed. Consumed. If he didn’t do anything, he was going to become Shisui. Be his creature, and the last thing Itachi wanted to be in the world right now was Shisui or anything influenced by him. Shisui’s mouth tasted like blood. Itachi struck out. His foot hit Shisui’s shin, snapping Shisui’s lips away from his with a soft noise. Itachi spun and shoved. His elbow cracked into Shisui’s jaw _hard_. It hurt Itachi, vibrating up his bone as he tore himself away.

“Don’t touch me.” The words cames out cold. “Not again.” Not ever, because Itachi couldn’t take Shisui to Konoha. Shisui cradled his bruising jaw with a hand, his dark eyes wide as he stared at Itachi. He looked like a creature of the shadows, and Itachi realized that Shisui was that. Shadows. When Shisui tried to push from the shadows, things went wrong. He couldn’t survive in the light. It wasn’t in his nature. Itachi blinked, feeling a rush of vertigo strong enough he thought he might be falling up.

Blood trickled from Shisui's mouth and things crashed down into reality. Itachi turned, almost surprised to find Kakashi in the alley as well. Itachi stared at the man a moment, wondering what he should say, and then he walked away.

Dawn was here, the castle was taken, the village was saved. It was time to go home.

There was nothing left to keep him here.


	14. War Children

Trial by fire seemed to describe the situation very well. Kakashi wouldn’t have chosen to test Itachi this way, but he had brought the boy into a situation where he might have to do this. He was the one to blame, in the end. Watching Itachi’s young face pale to something deathly under his new found tan, Kakashi silently shouldered that blame he knew was slamming down onto Itachi’s shoulders. He knew war children. They were fragile in odd ways, resilient in others, dead in more. Itachi’s almost pedantic insistence on saving as many lives as possible had alerted Kakashi to a problem. It could be the child wouldn’t kill, even if he had to. Kakashi had no doubt Itachi would kill to protect himself and someone else, but would he kill as ordered when ordered? That was what Kakashi had reservations about.

Itachi’s very thorough, almost plodding manner of dealing with problems made Kakashi certain the boy would the boy could be a good captain, because “plodding” for Itachi meant he was flying through possibilities with his quick mind—or would if he didn’t second guess himself so much. The only problem was how it showed. Itachi needed to be able to make his decisions more quickly. He still doubted himself. He hesitated, and he could not do that and be a captain. He would already be doubted enough with his age and blood. He would have to be perfect, and Kakshi doubted the child could be that yet. Perhaps he would be better without Shisui around to make him question his very existence, but maybe not.

They made a good team. Kakashi would hate to see what kind of terrors they could be in five years, if they didn't get each other killed first, or kill each other. They’d tried _that_ enough in these past few weeks.

With these thoughts weighing in his mind, Kakashi watched as Itachi almost lost it when he learned what he would have to do. He would have to slaughter. Kill without sense or meaning as the war had. Kakashi didn't think he could do it.

Itachi impressed Kakashi as his face hardened, and he gave voice to what they must do.

Now Kakashi watched Itachi and wondered if perhaps he had been wrong to push Itachi to this. The child held Shisui's knife in his fist and stared at nothing, his dark eyes glazed over as he watched the men stream in through the gate. Blood was drying on Itachi's cheeks. In his hair. He looked like a ghoul from some gruesome child's story. Kakashi wondered if speaking would break the spell or if Itachi would ignore him. What would he do if he'd broken the Uchiha's little genius? If he spoke and Itachi didn’t answer, what would he do then?

Itachi gripped Shisui's knife like a life line, but Kakashi had seen the anger in Itachi's eyes before. Kakashi suspected the anger was still there under the numbness. Somewhere. It would be best for Itachi if it hadn’t been snuffed out completely.

"I had heard Konoha was different from Kiriga."

Kakashi looked at the man who had paid for the slaughter. Of course, to him he had been trying to save his own men. To him, perhaps, it was justified. Kakashi had been killing so long on order he didn't need justification. Itachi, on the other hand, would need to justify what he had done. He would need someone to blame, or he would have to blame himself. Kakashi wondered how many years Itachi could hold out with that thinking, or if he'd correct himself with time. Would he become inured to the slaughter of innocents?

Kakashi looked at the man. "Talent negates age." Kakashi shrugged as if Itachi’s presence here didn’t bother him at all. "You'll find the town cautious but willing to serve if you handle them carefully."

The man still looked uncertain, but he nodded. From his armor, he pulled out a wrapped package of money. "The rest of your payment."

Kakashi took the packet and broke it open, having no problem counting the bills in front of the man. After making sure their payment was in full, Kakashi nodded and tucked the bills away. He gave the man a sweeping bow, and then followed Itachi's exit off the building. He didn’t feel like exchanging further pleasantries with the man.

Itachi hadn't gone far. In fact, Shisui had found Itachi in the alley below, which didn’t surprise Kakashi. The two seemed to have an almost magnetic attraction, running into each other everywhere. Kakashi also wasn't surprised to see the children were fighting again, sounding like angry cats as they hissed and slammed each other around. Kakashi watched as Shisui slammed Itachi back against a wall, after all the things they'd done to each other, Kakashi wasn't concerned. Shisui wouldn't damage Itachi too badly, and Shisui could probably take whatever Itachi would dish out in his exhausted state.

However, Kakashi wasn't expecting the kiss.

For a moment, it looked like Shisui's tactic might work. Itachi stopped fighting. He almost relaxed, bowing to the pressure of Shisui's touch and lips. Kakashi’s hand strayed to a kunai at the movement, but before he could decide whether to throw or clear the alley for whatever came next, Itachi’s body went tense again. He jerked in a full body rejection, somehow crushing himself away from Shisui enough to strike out. Kakashi winced at the blow to Shisui’s jaw.

“Don’t touch me.” Itachi’s voice sounded cold, and his face looked older. This was the vicious face of an ANBU, cold, calculating, and ruthless. He also looked more like his father than ever. “Not again.”

Shisui cupped his jaw, looking like a wounded animal. Itachi had carried that looked after a few of his encounters with Shisui, and Kakashi idly wondered if it was payback as Itachi walked by him, radiating a deep, cold fury and injury that Kakashi doubted he would let go of soon.

Shisui, still cradling his jaw, watched Itachi go. He looked at Kakashi, blood dripping from his mouth. His eyes were round, shocked. “He…I think he broke my jaw.”

“I’m surprised he still had enough chakra to do that,” Kakashi kept his voice light, as if this were nothing more than usual, perhaps even amusing. He had no desire to get anymore entangled in whatever was brewing between these boys than he already was. Or whatever Itachi had just broken along with Shisui’s jaw.

Shisui made a choked noise that should have been a laugh. He gave a wry smile, and then winced. None of it reached his eyes, which reminded Kakashi of Itachi on the wall, Shisui’s knife clenched in his hand. Perhaps the wild child and the Uchiha heir were more alike than they knew or Kakashi had guessed.

“Your knife is on the wall,” Kakashi added. “And you’ll be welcome at any of Konoha’s safe houses for your services.” Kakashi left it unspoken that Itachi might not be extending his invitation to let Shisui come to Konoha herself still. Kakashi didn’t think it was his place, and he doubted Shisui would take that little morsel if Kakashi’s hand offered it. Only Itachi’s open hands had proven to provide unpoisoned affection, and Shisui himself had broken that. It would be a good learning experience for both of them, but the injures on both side were deep. Itachi was more likely to survive this than Shisui.

Shisui, Kakashi realized as he watched the teenager weigh his options, would probably not live very long at all. His only attempt to bond with another human—a ninja and one of his blood, had ended rather badly. For all his bluff, Kakashi could see now in Shisui’s reaction to Itachi’s rebuff that Shisui was possibly just as emotionally fragile as Itachi. No, he was probably more, though he had more practice not feeling anything for anyone. If he lived long enough to open up again, the process would be very slow. Hopefully, next time he would be more gentle and treat his friend with more care.

But, still, Kakashi doubted he would live that long. Shisui wouldn’t have his island hide away anymore. Mist had him on their radar. Death would come soon. Certainly before he was twenty.

“Yeah…” Shisui looked up. His jaw was swelling. It was at least cracked, probably not shattered, but cracked.  “I guess that’s it.”

Kakashi dug in his pocket and pulled out a small vial of healing salve. They didn’t have much left, but Kakashi suspected they wouldn’t need any on their way home. Kakashi tossed the vial to Shisui.  “If that’s what you want.” The ball was in Shisui’s court. He could make his next move. He could try to make up with Itachi and come to Konoha, or he could go his own way—as he had claimed he wanted to do all along.

Shisui didn’t catch the vial. He stepped back and let it hit the ground. When he looked up, the vulnerability had left his eyes. He was guarded, tense and wary again. The shock had worn off, it seemed. Now would come the anger. Shisui bent and snatched up the vial. He shifted, bounced, his hands flashing in the air, and then he was gone. Kakashi felt the wind of Shisui’s passage, the smell of blood and sea, and then nothing. Kakashi sighed to himself and went to find Itachi.

 

 

Eventually, Kakashi gave up and waited on the edge of the village. He was unsurprised to smell meat buns before his pack landed beside him, followed by Itachi collapsing graceless on a rock to Kakashi’s right. It was very kind of Itachi to not approach like that on Kakashi’s blind side.

“I wasn’t aware someone who made it to Jounin could be lazy,” Itachi drawled the words softly, in a way that reminded Kakashi not of the quiet boy, but of Shisui. Kakashi tipped his head back and saw that Itachi was clean, his hair down in a ponytail. Kakashi doubted he would ever see it braided again. 

Itachi sat down beside Kakashi on the rocks and offered him a basket of meat buns. Kakashi doubted Itachi had interacted with a villager for them. They had probably been snitched from a kitchen, possibly paid for, maybe not.  Maybe Itachi thought saving their lives was enough payment, or maybe stealing didn’t bother him. Kakashi looked at the tired face beside him as Itachi methodically ate the savory meat bun as if it were hard tack.

“It will be noon before our ride arrives.” Kakashi picked up a steaming bun. They were down by the docks and would have to walk back through the village and then down to another section of the harbor to get to the small dock where the old man would meet them. It was out of the way and discrete.

Itachi just nodded. “The villagers were already talking with their new headman. He appointed a few of them to a council to advise him on the ways of the island…he said ‘so that I will have the blessing of the local spirits and gods.’”

“A clever tactic,” Kakashi said. Itachi made a noise, and Kakashi knew where his partner had been earlier. He’d been making sure this part of his plan would at least go well. Kakashi took another bite of the meat bun and decided he would be very glad to get back to Konoha, where every meal was not fish and the very air didn’t stink of the stuff.

Itachi suddenly stopped, jerking his head a bit. Kakashi watched as Itachi pulled a bone from his mouth. Itachi stared at the bone as if it were bloody or some living thing. His cheeks were pale again, his eyes haunted. Itachi’s lips twisted, tried to curve up, and then dipped sharply down. Itachi closed his eyes and bowed his head, his hand closing around the bone tightly for a moment. He opened his eyes slowly, and then slipped the bone into a pocket. Kakashi said nothing, and after their meal was done, Itachi changed his position on the rocky ground and fell asleep with his head pillow on his pack.

Kakashi let Itachi sleep, knowing the boy was probably running on empty and they had nowhere to go. Kakashi took it as a sign of trust, or maybe Itachi was too tired to care now. He slept deeply, twitching from time to time. Kakashi wondered if nightmares plagued him. Maybe he was dreaming of the war. Kakashi propped his chin on a fisted hand and wondered what he would tell the Hokage in his report about this child—for child he was. Just a child with a horrible knack for the business of murder.

Kakashi woke Itachi with a gently touch to his back a little before noon. Itachi stirred and stayed still for a few moments, and then he stood and stretched slowly, looking less like death.

The little village was a buzz of activity now. Filled with the invading force, people walked hurriedly from point to point. Kakashi read a tension, but no open hostility in the people’s faces. Kakashi, with his face half covered as usual, attracted a few stares, but not looks of recognition. Itachi should have, but he looked nothing like the wide eyed, innocent faced Inari. Now he looked like a tired soldier ready for a good rest. The nap had done him some good, but Kakashi guessed Itachi needed a week of good sleep and food to fully recover from everything that had happened here—physically, at least. He was still concussed, after all.

Kakashi bought them another meal of sweet meal cakes that only tasted vaguely like fish. Itachi ate them without seeming to chew. Kakashi found it odd the soldiers’ presence seemed so foreign to him. He realized he now knew most of the villager’s faces now, and to see so many strange faces put him on edge. Itachi seemed to be feeling the same thing. He hung close to Kakashi’s left side, a wary little shadow.

Itachi jostled into Kakashi as someone else jarred him. Kakashi turned on reflex, hand fingering a hidden weapon as Itachi’s shoulder pressed into him. The man, dressed as a soldier but far less…conspicuous than the others turned back to them. He nodded his head. “Should watch where you’re going.” He had a red tattoo on his cheek that reminded Kakashi of waves.

“Please accept my most humble apologies,” Itachi bowed low. The man stared at Kakashi, who bowed his head as well before the man went on. His three companions, who had paused to see how things would go, turned and headed up the hill and back into the village. Itachi watched them go sharply, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Itachi slowly turned back and they went their way down to the dock.  Itachi sat on the edge of the wharf and let his legs dangle off the edge. He stared out across the choppy waves, image adjusting to be a little more like his true age.

“I told Shisui he was still welcome at Konoha’s safe houses,” Kakashi finally spoke, keeping half an eye on Itachi’s back. Itachi stiffened a bit, and then sighed. He leaned his head back and stared at the sky, hiding his expression from Kakashi.

“Should I not have?” It wasn’t really a question. Shisui deserved some repayment beyond what had initially been promised. He’d gone beyond his previous agreement, and Konoha liked to maintain her reputation as reliable, even among the unreputable. Besides, Shisui hadn’t even stayed to collect the originally agreed on monetary payment.

“I doubt he’ll go,” Itachi said the words with a sigh. “I wish he would, but he won’t.”

“Will he come to Konoha instead?” Kakashi queried. Itachi shook his head, and Kakashi changed his angle. “Would you still welcome him if he did?”

That garnered a long pause. Itachi’s feet skimmed the next wave. He glanced down and pulled his feet up. “He was right. He’s not the kind of person you can tether to one place. He wouldn’t be happy there, and he would…he’d cause a lot of trouble if he weren’t happy.” Itachi paused and leaned forward. He stood up slowly.

“Our ride’s coming.” Itachi pointed and Kakashi could barely see the little black speck of a boat bobbing in the waves towards them.

Kakashi decided to give Itachi the topic change smoothly. “Mah, anxious to get home, Itachi-kun?” The kun was almost teasing, and Kakashi was surprised with Itachi answered.

“Yes.” Itachi glanced back and managed a smile. “I miss my brother.”

“Sasuke?” Kakashi knew the name, but Itachi nodded as if it were a question. “Is he in the Academy yet?”

“Not yet, but he’ll begin soon, according to the new standards.” Itachi’s smiled stayed in place. “He’s been talking about in non-stop all year, and while father wishes Sasuke had gotten in sooner…” Itachi shook his head. “The new age based system is…”

“Kinder?” Kakashi offered the word. Itachi nodded. They’d both been rushed through—Kakashi because there was a war, Itachi because of a shortage, his talent, and his family’s ambitions. “By the time Sasuke’s your age, he’ll only just be graduated, maybe Chuunin if his team shows promise…by the new guidelines.”

“There’s no reason for him to grow up faster than that.” Itachi stood as the boat approached. “There’s no shortage of ninja these days.” Kakashi nodded. Unless another war cropped up, which was likely, Sasuke’s generation would be coddled and slowly grown. Kakashi would be interested to see if this produced better ninja.

Kakashi paid the old, bent man their fare, and Itachi and Kakashi boarded the boat with only a little more competence then they’d boarded it with last time. Hopefully Itachi wouldn’t feel so sea sick on the way over. The old man began rowing away from the shore, his sail stowed until they were farther from the island and could catch a good breeze. Kakashi would have tried to talk to the old man, but the old man did not want to be spoken to. He didn’t want to share anything about his trade or learn anything about any of his passengers, which was probably why he’d been in business for so long.

Itachi refused to watch the island retreat. Instead he looked down. When they were a few stone’s throws from the island, Itachi tensed. He leaned down and plucked a caltrop from the floor of the boat. His fingers were immediately wet and Itachi dropped the caltrop onto the thick fabric of his pants. Kakashi recognized the barbed design as one used by Mist. Konoha-nin preferred the non-barbed version.

Itachi shook his fingers and sniffed. Kakashi, with a gloved hand, plucked the caltrop from Itachi’s lap. He sniffed it. “Blue ring octopus poison—that’s rather nasty. I hope you don’t have any open wounds. It’s not as toxic in this form, but it could still cause trouble.”

Itachi was already rinsing his hand. “Mist?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I’m not sure who else would have dropped these. I wonder where the old man was ferrying Mist-nin too?”

Itachi froze, his eyes suddenly doubling in size. Kakashi watched in amazement as Itachi’s pupils swelled, then shifted into the Sharingan. Itachi didn’t glance to the side, but his eyes seem to vibrate, as if he were reviewing some internal memory. Kakashi realized Itachi wasn’t even breathing, and then the boy took a huge, gasping breath.

“They’re on the island.” Now Itachi looked back.

“Why are you so sure?” Kakashi asked, though he thought he knew, and he was almost certain Itachi was correct.

“The men we bumped into—his face was similar to the woman we killed. It was too close to be anything but familial or clan resemblance and they smelled…” Itachi swallowed. “They smelled like poison and metal, not like the soldiers who had been marching all night and working all morning. They didn’t move like soldiers either.”

“Well, I suppose we left in time,” Kakashi dropped the caltrop into the bottom of the boat. Itachi stared at it, red eyes spinning.

“No.” Itachi looked up. “Poisoned caltrop prepared in the boat—they’re after Shisui. They poisoned the caltrops in the boat because they didn’t know when they might run into him. They were sent to finish the job.” Itachi swallowed, his eyes again on the shore.

“They’ve either found him, or he’s gone by now, Itachi. There’s nothing more we can do.” They were already a good distance from the island, and Kakashi was surprised to see the anxiety Shisui’s possible death caused Itachi. He’d thought there would still be enough resentment to keep that from happening.

Maybe Itachi’s obligation to his blood was stronger than Kakashi had guessed.

“We’re too far from the shore anyway.”

“I have to go back.” Itachi gave Kakashi a helpless look, mouth open to form some kind of logical response, and then he just shook his head. “I have to go.” Itachi looked like a man backed into a corner, but there was no desperation on his face. Just a calm, slightly exasperated resignation to what he had to do. Before Kakashi could protest, Itachi leapt onto the side of the boat. He popped two chakra pills into his mouth, eyes narrowed, and Kakashi had time to uncover his Sharingan before Itachi did something that made Kakashi’s head spin.

It was like the body flicker, only better. Stronger. Itachi skipped across the sea’s choppy surface like a pebble, landing on the shore in a tumbled heap. He took a moment to gain his feet, and then he was off. Kakashi sighed and waved to the man staring after the boy in amusement.

Evidently Kakashi needed to go back. The boat would be much more crowded with three—far more crowded if two of those three were corpses.

“Shisui, you had better not let that kid die, or I’m letting _you_ explain it to his parents,” Kakashi promised as they began the slow pull against the current to the shore.

 


	15. Spilled Guts

A person isn't who they are during the last conversation you had with them - they're who they've been throughout your whole relationship.-Rainer Rilke

_I had a dream the other night_   
_About how we only get one life. . ._   
_Stayed awake and stared at you_   
_So I wouldn't lose my mind_

_And I had the week that came from hell_   
_And yes I know that you can tell_   
_But you're like the net under the ledge_   
_When I go flying off the edge_   
_You go flying off as well_

_And if you only die once I wanna die with you_  
 _You got something I need_  
 _In this world full of people there's one killing me  
_ Something I Need--One Republic

* * *

 

Shisui had to admit that kissing Itachi had possibly been inappropriate. Maybe just a little at the time. It had seemed, in the heat of the moment, like a good idea. He’d needed to do something, but now his jaw ached and Itachi was gone. Kakashi was gone too, and Shisui was as he had been before. Alone on an island filled with people who didn’t want him around. Shisui looked at the salve and wondered if it would kill him. He would use it if it would. It would get this torture over with.

_Fish guts_ , he’d gotten so dependently melodramatic—like some kind of house wife or spoiled mistress.

Shisui shoved the vial in his pocket and went to retrieve his knife. He flickered up into the air and onto the wall, barely a shadow. He hardly existed as he plucked the knife from the ground, all the feeling in his body concentrated on the ache in his jaw. Nothing else really felt anything except empty. He’d never felt more like a spirit, something completely detached from this cold world he stared down into. People scurried below him, running from point to point, totally unaware of his presence. It felt powerful before Shisui realized none of what he saw mattered to anyone, and killing these men would just be as pointless as pouring salt on sea slugs.

Shisui turned his eyes to the ground and bent to pick up his knife. The knife was covered in blood. Shisui looked over the familiar blade and realized the grip would have been too large for Itachi’s hand. The heavy blade would have been more than the kid was used to, but he’d used it. It looked like he’d used it a lot, blood smeared and dried and then coated with more blood. It would take Shisui a while to get this thing cleaned off. Shisui sighed. He couldn’t even see his reflection in this thing. Not a bit. Maybe he didn’t even have a reflection anymore.

Maybe he’d really left his body behind in that alley.

“Hey, who’s there?” One of the new soldiers called, and Shisui didn’t bother to wave or give a return greeting. He simply hopped onto the parapet and launched himself out into space.

Shisui went to see the old apothecary, who Shisui lured out back to ask about his still aching jaw. The old man wasn’t busy, and he was more than happy to listen to Shisui talk about the invading force while he checked out Shisui’s jaw. The man had been sewing Shisui up for years now, and Shisui always had the best news. It wasn’t always true, but it would be the most interesting gossip around.

“As much as you talk, it isn’t broken,” The man grumbled. “But no hard or chewy foods for a while--stick to baby foods.”  While the man could have said soft, Shisui doubted that description would have given him as much pleasure as “baby foods” had. Shisui sighed.

“Aye, old man, I’ll do that.” Shisui waited as the man mixed up something to help with the pain and swelling. “By the way, could you do me a favor?”

The old man grunted. He didn’t expect payment from Shisui. He’d always suspected the boy was at least half a spirit and thought that not charging Shisui would keep mischief at bay. It did, mostly because Shisui didn’t want to tick off the only competent healer on the island (as long as you weren’t deathly injured), and it seemed fair. Shisui tried to do what was fair most of the time, as long as it didn’t hurt him too badly.

Shisui stood. “Tell everyone I hope they like the change in government. It’s my last gift to them.” With a real, wide smile at the gaping man, Shisui flickered away—but not before flashing the man a red eyed glance.

~

Shisui’s last act of thievery was to pillage the invaders’ food supplies and steal a boat. He didn’t bother even pretending to leave payment for either of those as he caught the wind and zipped around the island to his little sandy black beach. He knew where all the hidden sand bars were and tied his boat off to a stand of rocks while he hopped out and started for his little cave one last time.

Shisui stopped. Had he left anything there? He thought…well, it should be pretty well cleaned out from the last time he’d tried to leave, but Shisui crawled out there anyway, feeling bitterly nostalgic. He knew he had to leave, but he’d oddly thought he might have someone to leave _with_ , not that he’d ever thought he needed someone before. He didn’t _need_ anyone, but the slightly terrifying day dreams had been…nice. They’d been nice, and he’d worked so hard getting used to the idea it was a shame it hadn’t worked out. So much wasted brain power.

Shisui crawled into his former home one more time and wished he hadn’t. The Mist-nin had ransacked it. Everything had been broken and spilled and soiled, and bodies had been left here to rot. Shisui stared at them in horror, feeling as if he himself had been violated. His stomach turned. He wanted to be sick. Ill for days because he _house_ , his most holy of holy places had been desecrated by the filth and rot of other humans.  Unworthy creatures. Shisui swallowed and crawled back out without touching anything, his heart aching, but his ties truly severed from this place.

Shisui contemplated his utter poverty as he walked back to his boat. He contemplated how rich he suddenly was as well. Now nothing tied him down. Now he could be _truly_ free with nothing in the world tying him to anything. No human, no place, no possession held him with a task or memory or fondness. He could go where he wanted and be what he wanted. He had the ultimate freedom of owing nothing to anyone of anything.

And he had never felt more alone and utterly impotent—useless and insignificant. He could die and no one would care or even know.

No one would even think to burn incense for him.

Shisui stopped and looked up at the clear sky overhead. No storms today. He simply had the large, open expanse that flung everything wide and made him feel tiny. “Well, Shisui, you now have everything you ever wanted. Congratulations.” Shisui threw his arms wide, a cynical smile twisting his face.

The he threw himself forward, landed, rolled, flickered.

The sword still cut him across the back, a shallow burning stripe in his flesh. Shisui spun, hand bristling with kunai as he looked at the nin who had attacked him. Shisui’s heart dropped. No. Oh no. No, no. Not _now_. Not when he was almost gone. Almost _free._

His lips twisted into a wider smile despite the sinking feeling in his gut.

“Shisui of the Silver Tongue and red eyes, I assume?” The Mist-nin’s voice came muffled behind his mask. “You’re faster than I thought you would be. My apologies for underestimating you.” The politeness chilled Shisui. He knew this man wouldn’t b alone. He knew there would be at least three more, and he knew he couldn’t take that many alone. Not on the level they had to be on. Shisui swallowed. No time for words. No time for anything.

He started to flicker, but the ground shifted underneath him. Instead of flickering, Shisui went tumbled through the air, landing hard as something loomed out of the black sand above him. Shisui, having eaten hundreds of crabs, recognized what was above him instantly. The crab was maybe ten feet across and a little taller than Shisui’s waist.

Shisui swore and rolled backwards as the crab tried to grab him. He immediately had to dive forward as someone tried to spear him with a wicked bastardization of a fishing spear. A weighted net suddenly fell over him, wrapping him into a tiny ball as it yanked tight, the wire cutting into him. Shisui felt the first tingles of electricity buzzing through him, Shisui ripped his hands through signs and translocated away, still catching the beginning of the shock. He landed badly, staggering in the sand and barely bringing his knife up in time to block the spear again. He met a mask of simple white and tried to kick the man in the stomach only to have him dodge away.

Shisui knew his odds were only fractionally better than a fish on dry land and spun away from them. His only chance was to run, but as he tried to gather himself to flicker, he had to dodge the net, which put in him range of the crab. Shisui dodged the claw trying to crush him in half, but it still grazed him. Shisui was knocked to the ground, half stunned as he scrambled, rolling to escape the stab of a long sword. White face came again from the top of the crab, and as Shisui tried to scrambled away, the sand started turning into soup beneath him. Sword grabbed his shirt and pulled back his sword for the final strike. Shisui felt his eyes burn. Blood welled in his eyes.

“ ** _GET OFF OF ME_**.” Chakra cracked in his word, burning his tongue, slamming back from his eye and into his brain with such a bright flare of pain he wanted to scream. Sword staggered back, and Shisui realized he should have used that genjutsu for something better as he tried to scramble out of the way of white face before the crab took off his head. Net was waiting too, just for a clearer shot, Shisui was sure. No contest. Shisui was going to die. Die here and now.

Well, it wasn’t as if he’d expected to die a hero. This seemed about right for someone like him. Shisui tried to dodge around white face but got the butt of the spear in his gut. Shisui staggered back and then backpedalled to avoid the sharp end of the spear that came for his face. The ground gave way beneath his feet. Shisui fell completely under the sand this time, nose and ears filled with it was he struggled to get out. He refused to _drown_ , dammit. He wouldn’t drown in water that was half sand.

Ironically, the only thing that saved Shisui was the sand. He heard the crackled of heat, and the soup around him warmed. Shisui finally shoved himself to the surface, clawing sand from his eyes just in time to see a nin he hadn’t noticed before slam into the ground, a small body pinning her to the ground as her blood fell through the air and stained the ground. The giant crab above him vanished, the sand soup began to dry, and the world seemed to slow.

A small back crouched between him and the three remaining nin. A dark ponytail slowly fell into place on the dark clad back. Shisui saw a pale hand covered in blood and clutching a knife as the tiny, tiny child stood slowly, the only protection between Shisui and the world. The only thing between Shisui a death, this small, small figure with squared shoulders and bloody hands that dripped red into the sand.

“You can’t have him.” Itachi’s voice was high and clear, like a trumpet call, then it dipped low into a fierce growl. “He’s mine.”

The moment broke, time slammed into motion again. Shisui dove forward to yank Itachi back as the net came for him. They rolled back together, shared a red eyed look, and broke to the left and right. Shisui charged for white face, then flickered over him, landing behind sword as Itachi feinted in, ducked, and fell off to the side. Sword barely managed to dodge Shisui’s slash at his back. As Shisui stepped back, his back hit Itachi’s, and he heard another fireball crackle to life before Itachi skipped to the side, throwing kunai mostly blind but with amazing accuracy as he moved. Sword dodged the kunai aimed as his face, and Shisui managed to open up a slice on sword’s thigh before skipping away, ducking the spear stabbed at him. Shisui split into two, one running at spear, the real him vanishing in flicker.

Itachi, now near the woman with the net, threw up his hand. Net suddenly screamed, dropping her net. She broke the genjutsu moment later, but Shisui had already landed on her back and slit her throat. Itachi stumbled in the sand. Shisui’s heart rose in the throat as he remembered Itachi was running on little sleep, low chakra, and he was concussed. They had to finish this quickly.

But sword was behind Itachi, stabbing at his back. His sword sank in deep, sparying blood as Itachi’s red eyes went wide with pain, and Shisui _screamed_ , a sound he’d never thought any human capable of making tearing from him just as Itachi exploded into water and steam. Luckily, white face was as shocked as Shisui, and he hit Shisui in the shoulder with the shaft of his spear, not the tip. Shisui tumbled to the ground again. The spear stabbed down at him, aiming for his heart.  Itachi, suddenly there, shoved the spear off course at the last moment. It scored Shisui’s side deeply, ripping through the flesh. Itachi, crouched so close, used his small size to his advantage as he lunged forward and sank a kunai to the left of white face’s groin. The man bellowed, and blood sprayed all over Itachi’s face and on Shisui too.

Sword came with no warning and his remaining team member stumbled back, clutching at his leg. Itachi scrambled, but the kick to the face still sent him sprawling. In one long stride, sword was above him, stabbing down. Shisui shouted and rose, ignoring the popping, ripping pain in his side as he moved to blindly stab at the man. Sword spun and parried. Shisui leaned his weight into the blade. One more to go. They could do this. As a team, they were unstoppable.

Sword suddenly disengaged, slipping to the side to avoid Itachi, who staggered alarmingly when his blow didn’t connect. Shisui couldn’t tell what was Itachi’s blood and what wasn’t. They were on the very edges of the shore now, the sand was nice and firm under Shisui’s feet. The waves caressed him.

“Red eyed bastards,” Sword snarled. Shisui grinned and threw his knife. Sword parried it, sending the blade spinning onto the shore, but Shisui’s hands were flying through signs. He felt the massive pull of chakra in his gut and closed his eyes for only a moment. He could feel sword running towards him. Shisui’s lips twisted into a smile.

The sea rose up. Using the natural momentum of the ocean, Shisui could easily pull in a huge wave. He concentrated its force on sword, but it slammed into all of them, washing Shisui from his feet. He was ready for it, coming out of the water gasping but exhilarated. Sword had lost his sword, but he was already getting up. Shisui flickered without finesse, slamming into the man and carrying them both down. Shisui flipped a needle from the lining of his shirt and slammed it into the man’s eye, straight back into his brain. Sword’s body spasmed once, the man gurgled a scream and then went limp.

Shisui could hear nothing except his own breathing and the waves. He glanced around, counting bodies. Three on the beach above him, one beneath him. Shisui turned his head a little farther and saw Itachi standing, drenched with blood running down his pale face. Shisui beamed, bleeding and exhausted and in pain, but exultant. They’d won. Itachi had come back for him.

After everything and somehow when Shisui needed him most, Itachi had come back.

Shisui shoved himself off the corpse, grabbing his knife from the sand. He was glad that hadn’t washed out to sea! Shisui stumbled, regained his footing, and gave Itachi a wide grin despite his shaking knees. Itachi wiped the blood from his face and gave Shisui a shaky smile back, and Shisui realized Itachi’s lips were almost white in his pale, pale face. His arms were wrapped around his gut.

“Gods and little demons…” Shisui breathed and stepped forward. Itachi’s mouth was open, quick little panting breathes as he looked up at Shisui with wide eyes. His dark eyes were almost all pupil, and Shisui knew shock when he saw it. Itachi’s cheek was tacky cold when Shisui touched it, and as he nudged Itachi’s arm away, he saw the ugly gash across the boy’s gut, clear through the muscle and down to the intestines. Nothing spilling out, hopefully nothing ruptured, but Itachi was bleeding like a stuck pig. Blood poured from the wound, hardly visible against the black cloth, but all too apparent as it ran over Shisui’s fingers. Shisui felt his mouth go dry.

“There’s not a healer on the island, is there?” Itachi asked in a calm but small voice. He leaned his cheek into Shisui’s hand and pressed his arm tighter over his gut. A shiver went through him.

“No—not, there isn’t.” Shisui cursed softly. The old apothecary would be useless with a wound like this. Shisui knew a healer, but it would take five days by boat to reach her. Itachi was going into shock now, and that would kill him. He was cold and wet and soaked in blood. Dying right here on front of Shisui.

“I—it’s okay. Kakashi won’t blame you,” Itachi assured Shisui softly. Shisui wanted to laugh. This was what he wanted, right? Itachi out of his hair with no one to blame him for the kid’s death. This was his perfect happy ending, wasn’t it? He could hear his mother applauding him for his luck.

“It’s okay, Shisui.”

It wasn’t.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Shisui snarled, grabbing for Itachi’s cold arm. “No flaming way.” Itachi cried out as Shisui swung him up into a bridal carry, features tightening as Shisui’s hands slipped in the blood. His boat wasn’t so far away. He could stitch Itachi up and take him to a healer, but there wasn’t _time_. Damn kid was in shock. He was going to die of that before Shisui got him anywhere. Even if the shock weren’t a problem, gut wounds got septic fast and Itachi would die painfully.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Itachi assured Shisui, but the words were a mumble. His eyes were unfocussed, but his hand gripped Shisui’s shirt.

“You’re not allowed to die, you hear me?” Shisui demanded as he shoved chakra into his words. Itachi only shook in response. His skin was clammy. “Not after everything you’ve put me through, you hear me?” Shisui gripped Itachi tightly and tried not to stumble as he hurried down the beach, leaving the dead behind.

“You _can’t_.”

Itachi didn’t respond. His eyes had close. His lips were blue, face white where it wasn’t smeared in blood. His little heart stuttered with each beat, and Shisui prayed to every god and spirit he’d ever heard mentioned that Itachi would _live_.

He was afraid none of them were listening.

~

Kakashi surveyed the carnage.

“Is it wrong of me to hope these two never work together when they’re fully grown?” Kakashi asked as he turned to glance at Pakkun. Three more of Kakashi’s pack were swirling around in the sand, trying to sniff out Itachi’s scent in all of the blood and sand. Now they were all concentrating on one area.

Pakkun sat down. “This is his blood.”

Slowly, Kakashi turned and walked over. The blood has discolored the sand, but it wasn’t that much. However, there was a blood trail leading off along the beach. Kakashi wondered if that meant Itachi had been mobile.

“It was from a gut wound,” Pakkun added. Which meant something other than blood had been leaking out. Kakashi rubbed his hand over his face. He had to assume Shisui was with Itachi, because Shisui wouldn’t _leave_ Itachi, would he? Surely not, as upset as he’d been about Itachi storming off—unless he’d left Itachi to fend for himself because of that or the gut wound that looked like a death sentence.

Together Kakashi and his dogs followed the trail of Itachi’s blood. Kakashi could only find one set of footprints, and, after a while, Pakkun admitted they smelled a little bit like Shisui. So Shisui had been carrying Itachi. That didn’t bode well.

They crawled onto some rocks that created a little cove and stopped. Here was more blood. It looked like Itachi had been set down, and the black and grey rocks were smeared with mostly dried blood. Kakashi looked at the blood critically and decided yes, Itachi was in danger of dying from blood loss, if he didn’t die from shock first. The blood trail ended here, as did the scent trails.

Kakashi stood and looked out over the waters. He couldn’t see any boats, and he didn’t know the islands around here well enough to even begin guessing where they’d gone.

“Bloody ash. . .” Kakashi muttered under his breath.

“What now?” Pakkun asked.

Kakashi wished he had a better answer than crossing their fingers and hoping for the best. “Back to the boat.” Maybe, just maybe, they could catch Shisui and Itachi. Maybe. If the stars aligned and the spirits were willing.

But Kakashi had never been a man with much faith in the unseen.

~

Shisui had been rowing for two days straight now. He hadn’t been able to catch a favorable wind in his sails. His blisters were gone--popped and the skin of his hands was raw-raw-raw. Angry and oozing and so disgusting it wasn't even funny anymore. Shisui didn't think they'd ever be the same again, but he heaved against the oars anyway, pulling even though it burned. Across from him, the reason for his haste huddled in blankets, mostly limp. Shisui had managed to prop Itachi in the most comfortable position they could manage in a boat. From there, Shisui had done his best not to move Itachi at all. In theory that would lessen his pain, which would make him a little stronger. He needed all the strength he could get right now. Shisui had given Itachi all the stimulants in their possession to keep him going, used all the healing salves on him, force fed him water, and he still didn't think it would be enough.

It was a shame. Itachi had done so _well_ when Shisui had stitched him up on the beach. He'd only screamed once, and he'd tried very hard not to cry. He hadn't fought or pushed Shisui away at any point, only hid his face in Shisui's neck and muffled the whining, sobbing animal noises in Shisui's skin. He had bitten Shisui once in a convulsive move Shisui wouldn’t hold againt him. It had been then Itachi had really gone into shock and then Shisui had learned a genjutsu could knock someone out of shock. He'd been desperate and frightened enough to try, but it had worked. Somehow, it had worked, and he’d bought Itachi a little more time.

"Sorry I broke your rule about that," Shisui apologized. "I didn't think you would hold it against me. I mean, I didn't think it would work...” Shisui trailed off and swallowed. They were low on water now that he didn't have the strength for the jutsu to clean and un-salt any of the water around them.  Shisui was saving as much as he could for Itachi, because people with fevers needed a lot of water.

Itachi did have a fever. The infection had set in almost hours after the cut had been stitched, and it was taking Itachi down fast. There must have been some kind of leak, because the wound had been clean. Maybe something on the blade? Maybe it had been the wave Shisui has drenched them with. Shisui didn't know. What mattered was the wound was infected, and Itachi was weak. Right now, in the dying light, his color had gone all wrong. His lips were chapped, his eyes half closed. When he looked at Shisui, he didn't see him. He kept muttering names under his breath and repeating phrases that made no sense.  As much as Shisui wanted to unwrap Itachi and let the cool air take care of the fever, he was afraid to. What if Itachi start moving around and tore something? Better to keep him safely wrapped up. Better not to think about what the wound looked like--Shisui had cleaned it only hours ago and it looked disgusting. Hideous and disturbing and sickening. It looked like death.

"Sasuke..." Itachi muttered the name, rolling his head from side to side. "Sasuke?"

"You know, I'm here. You could call out for me," Shisui prompted his dying friend. Dying. Maybe if he thought it enough he would be able to accept it. After all of this needless suffering on both of their parts, they were just going to die.

"You should have slit his throat on that beach," A voice remarked. Shisui groaned and looked over at his sporadic companion on his rowing trip from hell.

"Hey mum, thanks for the advice," Shisui quipped before he pulled back against the oars with a groan. The way his arms burned made him think of muscle tears and tendon damage. If he didn't die in this boat, he'd probably be a cripple for life. Shisui grinned. "At least I won't die alone."

"Are you trying to imply your death is better than mine?" Shisui's mother cocked her head to the side. Shisui thought he should be more disturbed by his naked and drowned mother chatting him up while he slowly passed out from exhaustion, but it didn’t. Everything had passed into a strange surreal pocket of existence, and Shisui doubted he'd ever come out of it.

"I lived to have a child ," Shisui mother leaned back, tipping her head back. "Oh, but what a sorry child you are! Didn't you listen to my lessons? Didn't you hear all of my warnings, darling of my heart and soul?"

" _You_ told him to look out for me," Shisui hissed with another pull. The waves rocked him, and he wanted to vomit. Him, seasick. It was unthinkable and pathetic. Itachi had been vomiting off and on today, which made keeping him hydrated hell.

"And he did, loyal little dog..." She glanced at Itachi and grimaced with disgust. "Right until the moment when he let himself get gutted. Then he stopped being a partner and became a liability. Then you should have killed him--or left him for someone else to find and care for."

"He almost died saving me--he came _back_ for me!" Shisui had reminded himself of that often these two long days as he considered whether or not his hands would ever heal properly or if he were crippling his hands and arms with this work. He tried to silence the little voice that definitely sounded like his mother asking whether or not Itachi was really worth all of this.

"He isn't, you know. No one's worth dying like this. Maybe if you could actually save him I could see how your childish infatuation would make you do this, but you _knew_ you couldn't save him. As soon as he got the infection, you knew he would die. At that point, you really should have thrown him overboard, not given him the rest of your water and broken your back rowing him to where you _think_ you'll find a healer." His mother had always been a charismatic woman, but she was also vicious and demanding, and infinitely practical, which Shisui had always assumed he was as well.

He wasn't. Killing himself in an attempt to save a dying man for some imagined debt or wishful feeling of obligation was not practical. It was stupid and wishful and _romantic._

_"_ Gods and little fishes," Shisui hissed as he leaned against the oars again. "So what? I go soft and die. That's how it is, right? That's how you always taught me it was. I'm getting what I deserve, so why are you still here _haunting me_?" Shisui stopped and coughed. He'd talk himself almost hoarse by now, especially since Itachi was getting most of the water.

"I didn't birth you so you could die a meaningless death!" Shisui jumped as his mother's hand slammed into the wooden seat of the boat. "Gods damn you, Shisui. I didn't run from everything and hide on that forsaken little island just so you could _die_ a pointless death for someone who's going to die no matter what you do and doesn't deserve even a moment of your concern anyway."

"He's the one who's dying for me," Shisui countered. "He's the one who's dying for someone who's not worth his time. He's the one who bailed me out of my mess.”

“So you’re going to let die of septic shock?” Shisui’s mother laughed. “How kind of you!”

“Shut up!” Shisui shouted, his voice cracking.

"Shi."

The time the voice, so much softer and gentler, was Itachi's. He seemed less real than the phantom in front of Shisui. Shisui's mother retained a disturbingly ruddy complexion. Shisui thought it must be more fevered rambling from Itachi. Itachi had been doing that off and on, and trying to engage a delusional kid in conversation was just depressing.

"Hush, kiddo, we're going as fast as we can," Shisui managed to force out past his dry throat and thick tongue. Silver tongue, eh? It would be black before all of this was over.

"I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough," The words were slurred and smeared, but they were words. Itachi's wobbling head shifted to look more firmly at Shisui. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, you fought really good for some kid with a concussion," Shisui assured Itachi, pretty sure Itachi didn't really know what he was talking about. Sure, it made sense, and Itachi's fevered eyes on him made Shisui's hair stand on end, but could he really call Itachi _lucid_ right now? Course not. That would be too much to hope for. The only thing worse than having someone sitting next to you and dying was having them sitting next to you and dying while they couldn't do anything but mutter feverishly.

If Itachi had to die, couldn't Shisui at least get some last words? Some kind of "I don't blame you" or a confession of love or hate or _anything_. Shisui pulled against the oars again, feeling the ocean slap at them. The sail still lay slack in front of him, mocking. As his shoulders pulled with a suddenly sharper burning, Shisui realized he might not be physically capable of rowing for much longer. His left shoulder came out of socket fairly easily. Bad injury when he was a kid. Shisui focused on that pain and not Itachi struggling to breath and trying to form words past his haze.

"Can I have some water?" Itachi asked slowly.

"You're almost out--save it for yourself," Shisui's mother advised.

"Yeah, give me a second..." Shisui shipped the oars and painfully crawled from his position on the bench. His muscles were almost locked, and his hands were _raw_. Agony to touch things, but Shisui got out a canteen and slid over to offer it to Itachi. Despite the pain moving caused, he wanted to cry with the relief of being still. Itachi's hands shook too much to hold the canteen, so Shisui held it for him. He took extra care that nothing should dribble down Itachi's chin or choke him. Oddly, Shisui was good at that.

Shisui's mother glared as he lower the canteen. "Dead men don't need water--if he's thirsty, throw him over. He'll get all the water he needs."

"Shut up. I'm not throwing him overboard," Shisui hissed. The thought of leaving Itachi (even if he were dead) to wash up on some random shore, half eaten by the fishes and bloated from the water, made Shisui feel sick.

Itachi's hot hand grabbed Shisui's wrist, fingernails digging in with surprising force, nails actually digging into the skin. Shisui jerked his head to look at Itachi. His eyes were no less feverish, but they were undoubtedly looking at Shisui.

"Do _not_ talk to them," Itachi demanded in a wavering voice. "Not out loud and not in your head. They're not _real."_ Itachi's hold lessened, his hand quivering with the effort.

Shisui smiled. He wanted to shake Itachi and shout that he was _dying_. There were more _important_ things to worry about than Shisui's phantoms. "Easy, it's not one of them," Shisui assured Itachi. Itachi didn't look convinced, but his hand slid from Shisui's wrist and then stuck on his shirt.

"Are we almost there?"

"Yeah, just about," Shisui lied with a smile. Itachi gave him a look--one too deep for someone with a fever and closed his eyes. Shisui doubted he'd convinced Itachi. Still, Itachi breathed out and relaxed a little, as if it didn't matter.

As if it would still be all over soon, no matter what.

"Fish guts, don't tell me you're going to _cry_ about it," Shisui's mother snapped, rolling her eyes. "Dear devils, how did you end up like this, Shisui. How did you let one of those red eyed bastards get you so well under his thumb?"

Shisui looked at Itachi's face with his dark circles and cracked lips. His mouth opened just a fraction. He smelled like sickness and death and rot. Devils and demons, he smelled like something already dead, but his chest rose and fell and his skin still felt fever hot.

"Shut up, will you?"

"Why? 'It's not like that?'" The generous curve of her lips twisted. "You know it is. You know you've gone soft and you _know_ it's him that's done it. There's nothing in the world you can blame for all of this _but_ him."

"I'd be _dead_ without him anyway!" Shisui snapped.

"Oh no, if not for him, then you would have left the island in time. You would have been _gone_ with the missing-nin came for you. Remember, you handled the first batch on your own just fine," Shisui's mother pointed out. Shisui groaned. Would he have? He wanted to think not, but...

But...

"Why are you _saying_  this _now_? I'm going to _die_ , why can't you just leave me alone?" Shisui begged. "You asked him to watch out for me. You wanted him around me—didn’t you know what would happen?"

"Oh, c'mon Shisui, you know _why_. Mother wouldn't leave the island--she died there, and why would she leave just to bother you?"  Shisui looked up at his specter and watched with sick horror as the skin fell away to reveal his own face, his own cocky posture, his own ruddy cheeks and angry red eyes. Shisui's ghost smiled widely. "Because I am you. _You're_ the one thinking these things, and you know it. I'm your practical side, which you've been ignoring for far too long. You know what you need to do."

Shisui stared at the red eyes. He was never supposed to look at anyone with those eyes. The first time his Sharingan had activated, his mother had slapped him. She'd told him to _never_ look at her with his red eyes. Anyone he looked at with those eyes _had to die_. She didn't have many rules, but you had to follow her rules exactly, and Shisui had followed that one pretty well. Not well enough, because those red eyes gotten him noticed by Konoha and he should have killed Itachi when Itachi first saw his eyes. If he'd killed Itachi, Shisui would be safe and Itachi wouldn't have suffered through all of this pain just to die.

"It's not too late, Listen....he's dying," Shisui's ghost urged. Shisui glanced at Itachi again and listened. Itachi took a breath. He lay silent. One. Two. Three. Four. Itachi took another breath. He lay silent. Shisui counted the beats of his heart between each breath Itachi took. He should be breathing much faster than that.  Shisui glanced up at the ghost and found it had gone. He looked down at the soon-to-be corpse in his boat and knew if he lightened the boats load and rested, drinking the rest of the water himself, he might make it. Like this, they were both going to die.

"Really, you only have yourself to blame about this," Shisui assured the child as he reached out to touch Itachi's cheek. "You are the one who changed me and got us both into this mess." Itachi's cheek felt cooler and he didn't stir at the contact. Roughly, Shisui leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Itachi's temple. He pressed his face to Itachi's limp shoulder and smelled the stench of decay and death fully before he sat back slowly. No more being sentimental. No more questionable choices. Now was the time to be practical.

Shisui's hand clenched on the blankets around Itachi. He counted five beats between Itachi's breaths. "You know, you're the first person I've loved in a very long while. I wish it could have ended better."

Shisui waited, but Itachi lay still. Silent. His eyes looked sunken and his face lay lax. Shisui swallowed back something. He knew what he needed to do.

Time to save himself.

 


	16. Beating Hearts

Really, the decision was a forgone conclusion. With Itachi's record and bloodline, not to mention the political implications, Uchiha Itachi became the first Uchiha to join ANBU since his uncle Kagami had had the honor. The council even agreed to Kakashi's suggestion Itachi be placed on the fast track for captain, due to his ability to analyze a situation and plan thoroughly. He stayed calm under pressure, didn't waver in the face of physical pain, and, above all, he valued Konoha's reputation. The rest of Kakashi's advice was ignored.

"Kakashi, may I ask you to stay?" The hokage spoke as everyone filtered out of the room. Kakashi, wondering why he'd taken this assignment in the first place and swearing he'd never do anything politically sensitive again, stopped and walked back to the Hokage's desk, bowing. As the last man closed the door, Kakashi straightened.

"Are you pleased with the decision?" Sandaime asked, his lined face carefully neutral but curious.

"I find it very strange that they decided to admit someone to ANBU who isn't even here..." Kakashi admitted mildly, rubbing his chin. He'd been immensely happy to get back into his normal face masks instead of that ridiculous scarf.

"Its is a slightly special case. Usually, when one is on an initiation mission, their proctor doesn't lose them," Sandaime pointed out.

"I didn't so much lose him as he ran away," Kakashi pointed out, the oddly apprehensive twist in his gut. 

"But you're sure he's alive?" Sandaime pressed, the line between his brows creasing. 

"As sure as you can be anyone alive when you haven't seen them for a month," Kakashi admitted. "If he did die, I'm sure we'll get some kind of sign sooner or later." He hoped. Shisui might just run and never look back if Itachi died.

"If he's gone much longer, his family is going to start demanding explanations, or proof that he's alive and well," Sandaime said, and Kakashi wondered if he would be the scape goat for this. Who better to explain to the Uchiha where their charming little heir had gotten off to?

"It's better than admitting out right ANBU lost him," Kakashi mused. Saindaime's look said Kakashi had lost the kid, not ANBU. Kakashi doubted the Uchiha would like hearing that.

"Give it more time. He'll come home--Itachi has the strongest sense of duty I've seen outside of dogs," Kakashi added. "He'll let us know." Saindaime looked dubious, but what could they do but wait? Shisui and Itachi had effectively vanished without a trace from the small island. The best ANBU trackers couldn't find a trace of them, and dead boys certainly couldn't be so hard to find. There hadn't even been a hint that Mist had them dead or alive, and surely something like  _that_  would have leaked.

"But, unless I miss my guess, he's alive and will be home as soon as he can convince someone to come with him," Kakashi concluded, probably more hopeful than convincing.  He really should have grabbed the kid before he got out of that boat.

~

Kakashi had been back in Konoha for two weeks, as far as the Uchiha could tell. So far there had been no sign of Itachi. The Hokage insisted the boy was already on his first ANBU mission. Fugaku had believed that for a while, but now it sounded like an excuse. Had something happened to Itachi? Surely they would be obligated to tell him if something had. The clan was getting restless. They were full of conspiracy and mistrust, so they made monster's out of shadows. Fugaku needed Itachi to come back soon or the coup would take place next week.

They were not ready for that.

Fugaku still held a small hope that a solution could be reached without outright war. That was the hope with sending Itachi to ANBU. Maybe he could dig something up that would give the Uchiha the leverage they needed, but he doubted it. The longer things dragged on, the more resentment built up, and the more Konoha seemed to think the Uchiha's place was  _here_  crushed under the village's heel. The Uchiha wouldn't stand for that much longer. Things would have to change. One way or another, things would have to change.

“When’s Itachi coming back?” Sasuke asked, a question he asked a few times every day now.

“ _Soon_ ,” Fugaku lied. “Sasuke, go outside.” Sasuke stared at Fugaku as If he might protest this time, but he only sighed and turned to walk out. Sasuke, Fugaku could tell, would be a handful in a few years. Itachi had always done as told, quiet and quick. Mikoto had also called him eerie, but must war children were like that. Itachi had also hid under tables when he heard loud noises until he was almost eight.

“You should go and talk to the Hokage,” Mikoto insisted quietly as they heard Sasuke shuffling towards the door.

“If something’s happened to Itachi, they’ll let us know.” Fugaku wasn’t going to go begging, and he had a feeling confronting the Hokage about this would start things moving that couldn’t be stopped. What would have to be done if he were told Itachi were dead, or worse that no one knew where he was?

Mikoto’s mouth thinned into a line. Someone knocked at the door. Fugaku felt the press of the unsually warm spring day on his skin.

“It’s been too long,” Mikoto insisted quietly.

“I’ll get it!” Sasuke shouted. Fugaku expected it was someone coming to ask about Itachi.

“Kakashi’s _back_ , Fugaku.” Mikoto’s voice held no motherly concern, but all of the fire and steel of a ninja. Were she not a woman and married, Mikoto could be Jounin. Fugaku had always taken some pride in the fact that his fiancée could hold her own against him in a fight. She might have passed him, given time, but that’s not how things had gone.

_Do you know where your son is, Fugaku?_

What kind of heir would Sasuke make? The Uchiha _needed_ Itachi’s brilliance for the coup. They needed a strong leader. Sasuke was too young and didn’t have his brother’s power. Fugaku heard the door rumble open in the background. He felt Mikoto staring at him.

“ _NII-SAN!”_

Mikoto was the first to react, scrambling to her feet and running. Fugaku followed, running the first three steps until his knee twinged, and then he walked. He heard the rapid bursts of Sasuke’s questions, demanding to know where Itachi had been and why he’d been gone for so long. He did know he’d been gone _forever_ , didn’t he? Fugaku heard Itachi’s reply, deeper than it had been before he left. Mikoto stood in the doorway, hand over her mouth.

When he saw Itachi, Fugaku understood why.  Itachi was browner than he’d ever been, thinner and taller. The fullness of his face ahd fallen away to reveal cheek bones and a hardening jawline. In the newly thin face, his eyes were large and dark. On the whole he looked darker and older. His right arm had a blood bandage on it, and he held his brother as he used to when Sasuke was much younger, smiling softly.

Itachi looked up from his brother and to his parents, his face oddly grim behind the smile.

“Itachi, have you been sick?” Mikoto asked as she stepped forward, the shock gone. Fugaku realized that was why Itachi looked more mature. His hands had thinned as well, his entire frame leaner as he leaned forward to set Sasuke down.

Itachi shook his head. “An injury, but I’m recovered.” Itachi shrugged, a gesture Fugaku felt certain he’d never seen his son use before.

“ _Nii-san, Nii-san_ , what took you so long?” Sasuke demanded, pulling on Itachi’s shirt. Itachi looked amused, his thin hand brushing Sasuke’s head.

“That is what we’d all like to know,” Mikoto added, and Itachi smiled a little at them all.

“This morning was was getting my tattoo…” Itachi touched his shoulder. “But it was clan business before that.” Itachi gently poked Sasuke on the forehead and looked at his father.  “I think we should talk about that.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, and, as he looked down, Fugaku never realized he’d been afraid to meet his son’s eyes before. Something had changed.

Itachi would never be a child to Fugaku again.

~

Itachi sat in his father’s study with tea, feeling very out of place. He looked out of place, calm and contained and utterly alien. Fugaku sat down slowly, trying not to favor his knee when it wouldn’t have mattered months ago. Itachi knew his knee was injured. It didn’t matter.

Now it did.

“You convinced Kakashi to go to Konoha without you?” Fugaku pressed. Itachi nodded.

“Yes. I thought the informant we’d been using might be half Uchiha, and I didn’t want Kakashi involved.” Another little shrug. “That was why it took me so long. I had to chase him, and there was the injury…” Itachi made a vague gesture at his gut, and Fugaku thought of how many gut wounds he’d seen go septic during the war.

“And was he?” Fugaku asked.

“Was he?” Itachi repeated the words. Fugaku realized Itachi’s eyes had lost focus, and now they became almost too intense.

“You said you thought he was an Uchiha,” Fugaku repeated. “Was he?”

Now Itachi smiled a little and looked down at his hands. The thick braid of dark hair slid over his shoulder. “No.” Itachi looked up, something off in the corners of his mouth and hanging in his eyes.

“When it comes to him, I was wrong.” Itachi’s hands twisted in his lap. “He wasn’t what I thought he was.”

Fugaku nodded, satisfied, and Itachi never brought up the subject again. But, Fugaku always wondered what had happened. Itachi never quite was the same again.

~

The old man finally made up Shisui’s mind.

Poking around Konoha had been easier than expected, all things considered. Shisui didn’t even think Itachi knew he was in town, which was good since Shisui didn’t know if he wanted to stay. Something was off here—tense and growing tenser by the day, and no one seemed to like the Uchiha much. Shisui wondered over this as he perched in a tree.

He’d put it off long enough; it was decision time. Really, it always amazed him that Itachi could have him so divided against himself like this. Always that kid made things into such a huge ordeal for Shisui, but now he’d made up his mind. When the old man had shown up, Shisui really only had one logical choice, and maybe it had been the inevitable choice all along. Itachi wasn’t the blindly loyal little follower anymore, and Shisui had a feeling he’d played a hand in that. Whatever these secret meetings were about, there was no way they were condoned by the Uchiha.

Which meant things were going to get really messy in a little while. Really messy. Shisui knew when to expect death.

“Uchiha Shisui, you are now and forever more will be, an idiot about this kid. A huge stupid idiot, you know that?” And he did, and he was _almost_ even okay with it. It was kid of like having an allergy. You just had to deal with it. Take the medicine or avoid it.

“And may I be eaten by thrice cursed minnows,” Shisui added as he leaned forward, delicately balanced for a moment before he fell towards the ground.

~

_“You won’t come.”_

_Shisui lay in his favorite new position, his head on Itachi’s chest listening to the kid’s damn unstable breathing. It no longer bubbled or wheezed, so maybe he could stop having a complex about it soon. That would be nice.  Just a little._

_“I never said that,” Shisui protested, sleepy and indifferent._

_“No, you said you would come,” Itachi admitted._

_“See?”_

_“You also said I didn’t smell while I had a festering wound,” Itachi added._

_“Don’t confuse my sweet nothings with my serious talk, ‘Tachi,” Shisui grumbled, the nickname slurring off of his tongue as he raised his head. Itachi’s lips quirked._

_“You’re not going to come.” Shisui opened his mouth to protest, but Itachi went on. “And that’s okay.”_

_“Lying’s suddenly okay with you?” Shisui quirked an eyebrow. “Finally, some of my good sense is rubbing off on you.” Itachi smiled, still bird thin and pale and weak in the bed, but better. He would live, and Shisui could sleep without waking even when his hand was on Itachi neck, feeling his pulse through the night. Shisui lay his head back down, listening to Itachi’s heartbeat._

_“I’ll come.” It bordered on a promise. Itachi didn’t speak, but his chill fingers traced the shell of Shisui’s in ear a conciliatory manner, as if in advance forgiveness or apology. Shisui shut his eyes, and Itachi began to hum an old Mist lullabye as his hands tangled in Shisui’s hair, as if he might never let go._


End file.
